


In the Name of the Father

by peachycans, thelovearesick



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: AU religious, Alma Park - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, Father Eddie, Helena Gluskin - Freeform, M/M, Widow Ms. Park, Young Waylon, prohibited relationships, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-10-24 10:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10740267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachycans/pseuds/peachycans, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelovearesick/pseuds/thelovearesick
Summary: "He had been fighting his impulses for a long time, devoted to his vocation and faith. He never expected that a young man's gaze would change his perspective entirely..."





	1. Blessed Mary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a long time I'd really liked this story and the concept, and I would talk to thelovearesick about doing translations. After forever, we both discussed me creating a translation for this particular AU, with her helping me out with the hard details of it. Now it's finally here! :D
> 
> This is an English translation of thelovearesick's 'In the name of the Father...'. It's not an exact word-for-word, sentence-by-sentence story, but it's as close as I could get it, lol. It's not going to have a set schedule or anything, it'll just go off of whenever I have the chance to work on it and upload. Hope you guys enjoy. :)
> 
>  **thelovearesick:** Hey Guys, this translation runs on the account of Peachy, who is doing an excellent job in this translation. I'm very happy with this. I'm excited that more people can read this story!

_Purity._

The word echoed in his mind like a mantra as he meditated in silence, locked inside of a darkened room. The only source of light was from a single candle illuminating the table where he’d placed his elbows. He’d been holding a rosary between his fingers, palms clasped together. His prayers had become constant, even haunting as he closed his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts of earlier days.

Unfortunately, his mind kept tormenting him with the image of a stranger that had sat in the first pew of the cathedral. He remembered the solemn expression perfectly over the stranger’s youthful face, accompanied by a pair of wide eyes that stared into nothingness with a sort of brimful sadness.

The sweet stare he’d stumbled over was enough to make his body feel a wave of shock that ran from head to toe. He’d had to take a couple steps back.

He knew with absolute certainty that the youth and beauty of that creature was one of the most striking, attractive and- oh, why not admit it, _exciting_ things he had ever seen in his entire life.

The slender rosy lips. The sand-colored hair that fell delicately over his cheeks; and of course, the typical appearance of someone who had not reached full maturity quite yet.

The firm little hands that held his book of chants as he tried to distract himself from his surroundings. He had been able to see the tremor of his chin, the slight curves of his torso, the tightness of his waist; even the near-unnoticeable tic that his leg did as he moved in his seat.

The young man held the hand of his mother with his free hand, who had been sobbing beside him. She had recently lost her husband.

At the new image floating through his mind, he licked his lips as he focused more on his memories, allowing his head to rest on the back of the chair as his breath hitched, quickening, forming erratically.

The young man rose from his seat, walking to where the cleric was. He moved with grace and elegance, his composure showing off youthful beauty in all of its splendor.

His own hands crossed over the young man’s narrow waist, rising and falling, alternating touch against his hips and face. A smile formed, small, gentle.

Their faces grew closer and closer, and suddenly he could see nothing but the boy, as if the whole world had vanished around them. He was only a few inches away from his lips now, their minds consumed with thoughts of want and desire…

“Father Gluskin?” said a female voice from the other side of the door. He snapped back to reality almost instantly, a more than pitiful sigh escaping his lips. He placed his rosary gently onto the desk, rising from his seat to greet who’d disturbed him.

He opened the door, putting a small smile on his face as he met the eyes of a female, "Sister Sophia- what a surprise! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Eddie Gluskin kept his tone polite and cheerful, despite his growing annoyance at the disruption. Remain pleasant, he told himself.

Sister Sophia was a particularly clumsy woman. She was far too young for her own good, and it became evident through all of the awkward and ignorant decisions she made. _Especially_ when it came to dealing with the priests and other members of the community.

When Gluskin had first met her, he’d found the behavior acceptable- _to a degree-_ and had taken on the duty of teaching her about their noble vocation of giving and strengthening life to the Lord. As days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, that smiling young woman had started to become a real nuisance to him.

“I’m very sorry for interrupting your prayers Father, but a woman has been looking for you in the chapel. She says that it’s something important that only you can help her with, and-”

“Yes, thank you Sister Sofia. Please tell her I will join her in a moment.” Was all Gluskin said before closing the door.

Sofia blinked in confusion, a shiver of nervousness running down her spine as she nodded to the now-closed door. She retraced her steps back towards the chapel, obeying the commands given. He would be out soon; he’d told her he would.

Gluskin ran his hands down his face, sighing. He needed just a few more moments; he needed to calm the feelings that had stuck with him even after he’d been brought out of his… _unhealthy_ thoughts.

How could he have let that happen so easily? He’d learned to handle his sick impulses in the past. Ideas had been blocked with care, passions repressed with ease. But he’d let this one slip right through his fingers. How?

Why had they come back to torment him?

It wasn’t _his_ fault. No, it couldn’t be; it was the fault of that _child._ That damned young man who had caused so many unwanted sights. Gluskin cursed his own mental weakness on the surface, but what he really cursed was that he didn’t even know the boy’s name, to be able to contact him- to be able to establish just a couple of words between them. To know what kind of voice he had; oh, it probably sounded like a choir of angels.

Gluskin knew it was foolish to idealize an encounter with a complete stranger, and one who probably hadn’t even spared him a passing glance at that. But it was the only consolation he had left. Many nights had been spent thinking about the boy over and over again.

He growled, throwing a hard fist into the table beside him. The resulting bang resonated for a few moments after, eventually dimming back down into complete silence. He huffed, tilting his head back as a few strands of black hair fell over his eyes.

He could only assume someone above was mocking him; laughing at him. Taunting his vocation, his morals- every honest representation he had ever made of himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught himself thinking such vulgar things. He’s been fighting off thoughts of homosexuality for years and years.

To be homosexual was an _atrocity,_ at best.

It had all become such a great burden to his life that interactions with men were far and few compared to his interactions with women. He had devoted himself to his ecclesiastical duties instead, hoping it would drive all of his unhealthy thoughts away.

His social apathy had soon proved useful, sending him into adulthood as a changed man. He was an expert of churchly subjects, lover of dead languages such as Latin, and completely willing to teach his learnings to others. He knew how to act properly, keep himself and others in line, and act the part he played.

Gluskin was recognized and remembered as a severe man to most of the locals, but he was also known for his fairness and understanding as long as the receiver was deserving.

Many women of the church and other priests exercised caution before Father Gluskin’s all-too familiar temperament. He was the one in charge of sponsoring masses and festivities with firm levels of gusto, after all.

Such respect entailed great responsibility; he couldn’t afford to find himself in love with the first young man who appeared before him. It wasn’t right.

Running a hand through his dark hair, Father Gluskin set out from his chambers in the direction of the chapel and towards the woman Sister Sofia had told him about minutes beforehand.

Although Gluskin walked coolly and calmly, his height of six-four allowed him to travel faster and with greater strides. Soon enough he was standing in the doorway to the cathedral, finding the described woman sitting at the first pew. She was covered from head to toe in dark black dress, her face partly disguised by a veil.

Straightening his posture, the priest approached the woman slowly and carefully, knowing fully well that this woman was a widow. He met the eyes of the woman as he approached, allowing a small smile to fall over his lips.

“Mrs. Park?” he asked softly, trying his best to sound consoling. She was struck with grief and loss; he didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was.

The woman’s eyes widened with a start. "Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt you Father; I know you're a very busy man and I apologize if this was of any inconvenience to you-”

Gluskin waved a hand, brushing her apologies aside. “It’s alright, Mrs. Park. You’re more than welcome here. It’s only normal to want to find comfort in times of difficulty such as these. I’ll always be here to talk. Is there anything you would like to discuss in particular…?”

The woman nodded. "Yes. It's about my son, Waylon."

Gluskin paused, taking a seat next to Mrs. Park. He furrowed his brows, grasping her hands in his own. Her son? This could be interesting.

"Has something happened to young Park?" Gluskin asked next, careful with his choice in wording.

Mrs. Park fell into another fit of sobs, releasing one of her hands in order to pull a handkerchief out of her pocket. She dabbed at her eyes, taking deep breaths in what was obviously an attempt at calming herself down. She was a worried mother; Gluskin couldn’t blame her. At least, not really.

After another minute of sniffles and cries she managed to compose herself enough to continue, placing the handkerchief onto the empty seat beside her. “I'm worried about him. We don’t talk much anymore, and he’s always stuck in his own thoughts, as if he’s just… Disconnected from me. After my husband passed on, I’ve been worried he hasn’t had the right figure in his life to guide him-”

“-It’s normal to be having these thoughts Mrs. Park; even more so when dealing with a teenager. They’re going through many changes before entering adulthood.”

“Oh yes, I’m aware- It’s part of why I’m worried. What I really wanted to ask Father… I was wondering if you would be able to guide him. Maybe even become his counselor, if it’s not too much of a hassle or interrupts your daily activities…”

Silence enveloped them both. Gluskin was more than surprised- No, surprised wasn’t the right word. _Euphoric._ That was better.

If Mrs. Park had not been distracted by dabbing her eyes again, she would have noticed the particular brightness in Gluskin’s eyes, the subtle change of expression, and the particular smile that was beginning to form ever so slowly. Yet it disappeared just as rapidly.

"It wouldn’t be any kind of distraction, Mrs. Park. I am more than willing to help your son. In fact, you can bring him as soon as possible.”


	2. Chastity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie sifts through more than disappointing memories of the church and his personal life while waiting for Waylon's visit. A few others learn about the young boy's incoming presence, too...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha yeah, this update is extremely soon. It's not always going to be like this. Updates for this fic usually depend on two factors: My level of laziness, and the word count. Longer word counts take longer to write, but I'll try not to leave the fic for weeks at a time, lol. :)
> 
> **thelovearesick:**  
>  Second chapter already! Thank you for all the support and for reading this crazy idea, and thanks to Peachy for the awesome work of translate :) you're the best!!!

_Waylon._

So that was his name. Eddie couldn’t stop repeating it over and over again in his mind as he conjured up fresh memories of the boy. The object of his desire was _coming,_ and everything suddenly began to feel all too real. He tried to keep his composure, tried to keep his thoughts clean and healthy. Ms. Park was still present.

Ms. Park took an eternity to calm down again, nothing but sobs and repetitive mumbles breaking free from her dry lips. Eddie was able to put enough of it together to form a single coherent message; she has been scared and lonely since her husband’s death. 

_‘What a miserable sight,’_ Father Gluskin thought to himself. Strange. He’d never had many issues with listening to the sorrows of widows or other poor souls who’d had nowhere else to turn before. Any other pathetic soul he could’ve handled.

But he had more important things to think about besides Ms. Park. He had to take the time and plan his meeting with this woman’s son, and make sure his underlying intentions weren’t obvious or noticeable to the young man when he did arrive.

Just the thought of having him so close had Eddie’s heart racing, his mind already forming all sorts of scenarios in which they would meet. And the woman was finally gone- praise the lord.

Eddie stood, beginning his walk back to his chambers at a hurried pace, trying his best to contain himself- at least until he returned.

How long would it be until Eddie could see him? How would the young man act, what were his tastes, his personality? What did his voice sound like? These were all questions Eddie asked himself as he walked, giddiness consuming him, swallowing him whole. He still remembered the boy’s eyes; same as the color of coffee that had been made with a bit too much creme. Eyes that had looked on grimly from his seat.

Eddie was aware of how childlike he was acting for someone thirty years of age. He’d had so much experience throughout that time, but still, he’d allowed himself to become enamored with someone who didn’t even know his _name._

But he couldn’t help it. It had been so long, _too long_ since he’d allowed himself to feel any sort of joy. Days had been ticked off of his life, passing by without any sort of amusement or happiness to console him.

It he was being honest with himself, it had been _years._ Despair had invaded his life long ago, and had stuck around for the ride.

When Eddie had first begun to work within the church, his motivation and enthusiasm had been almost contagious. He’d come in with so many ideas and plans for the future that he’d wanted to see through.

Eddie had always considered himself a person of... _special_ characteristics. He was extremely authoritarian and, in some cases, explosive. He’d always had a bad temper and that did not go unnoticed by the other priests. They’d tried to subdue his impulses; to help him.

His visions for the future of the church hadn’t been received well due to his lack of control. Eddie definitely didn’t have the patience required to guide youth communities; any time he’d tried, the other priests and counselors rejected his offers. Soon enough, his enthusiasm had begun to flag.

Because of them, Eddie’s daily routines dulled, completing them without a second thought while operating as if he were some sort of machine. He didn’t think he had any feelings or emotions left. Sermons were more than disinteresting. His life was a waste. He would constantly put on a mask of fake kindness and understanding to others and their problems whenever they came to him for help.

Eddie just knew he’d make a good actor, if nothing else. He had contemplated running away many times before; just taking the few possessions he had, packing them into a trunk and leaving it all behind without looking back. He could do it, too.

When had he lost himself? How had it happened so quickly? Maybe it was because of the network of lies and corruption that had spread throughout the congregation; war raged upon power and egos was constant. So much for ‘faith’.

Status was the main motivation of entering the priesthood more than anything else. That, and financial security. Eddie had been disgusted by the various conversations of other pastors who openly expressed how little they cared about the well-being of believers as long as their pockets were full.

It was ironic, really. He had become one of them.

Eddie understood then why his feelings for the young man had to be true. He was almost certain they were. The emotions that came with the thought of him were similar to what he felt when he’d stood in front of the entrance to the seminary. A feeling he knew well, but one that couldn’t predict his future. He would have to be patient, and see what unfolded.

When Eddie closed his eyes, he could imagine the young man standing in front of him clear as day, his smile full of indifference and rebellion. He was so tempting, so attractive... Eddie’s mind would succumb for days. _Days._

Eddie tried to clear his mind to the best of his ability, pausing in his walk to admire the atmosphere of the building surrounding him. What he truly enjoyed about the church was the rustic beauty that it offered. Sunlight bathed the halls through tall windows on either side of him.

He turned his gaze to the image of Christ pinned against a large wooden cross that stood above all else; one of the biggest figures of Christianity, and one of the greatest treasures that had been donated to the church. Eddie liked the surrounding decorations. He even had a favorite window; it was a particular pane that had been painted with the arrival of the Holy Spirit.

He slowed his pace while taking the time to look around the halls. There were a few people sitting on benches nearby, many of them being elderly women praying. Some even clasped rosaries between their hands, as if just the object itself would confirm their salvation.

Eddie couldn’t help but feel revulsion at the sight, however cruel it seemed. There was nothing more unpleasant to watch than their hideous faces bowed in prayer.

His steps grew heavier as he walked further into the bowels of the church, shoulders lowering, tired and tense. A sigh escaped his lips as he pushed open a door that had previously blocked his path. Eddie walked inside.

“Father Gluskin?” called the voice of an elderly man sitting across the room, head tilted in Eddie’s direction. He wasn’t overly surprised by the man’s presence; he didn’t care to travel to the inner workings of the church very often. He usually tried to avoid other members of the community, having a general distaste for all of them.

“Father Martin, good afternoon. May I speak to you for a moment?” Eddie asked cautiously, folding his hands behind his back. He always had his reservations when talking to the man.

The height difference between them was highly noticeable; Eddie had to look down in order to speak with the older man as he approached. He felt humiliated by it, knowing Father Martin’s level of importance to the church and its events compared to his own.

Father Martin smiled warmly, causing the sink of Eddie’s lips to deepen. Nonetheless, Eddie knew he had to speak with him before Waylon arrived, lest he be left confused by the young man’s presence when he did turn up.

Eddie cleared his throat, sighing. “I spoke with Ms. Alma Park this afternoon. A few days ago we had gathered mass for the death of her husband. She seemed depressed, and overly worried.”

“I heard from Sister Sofia.” Father Martin responded, smile faltering. “It was you who performed the mass, if I’m not mistaken. Ms. Park had been asking members for you earlier. Is there a problem?”

Eddie shook his head, “There's no problem. But she did talk to me about her nineteen-year-old son, Waylon. He’s been having difficulty coping with his father’s passing, as she said. Ms. Park asked for my help to... Well, guide him. Be his support, for the time being.

“I thought it best to tell you we’ll be expecting him in the coming days. If it isn’t any trouble, I would like to do so.” Eddie let out another short breath once he was done, his gaze turning to the old priest by his side.

Father Martin seemed to consider his words before finally looking back up to him, face alight with confusion. "I thought you didn’t like teaching the young, Eddie? You always avoid us and the activities we host, and now... You’re going to be this boy’s _mentor?"_

Eddie rolled his eyes, lips pressing together in a firm line. He hadn’t isolated himself _completely._ He just preferred to avoid interfering with their festivities, choosing instead to catch up on his studies and practice of faith.

He felt his fists clench by his sides as he choose his next words, “If I remember correctly, I never said that don’t like working with the young, _or_ participating with the rest of the church’s activities.” 

Eddie closed his eyes, trying to relax his hands as he continued. “These circumstances are different and _yes,_ I’m willing. Wherever I can help means _something,_ and I’m perfectly able. But is there any inconvenience to _you,_ Father Martin?”

Eddie was completely aware he hadn’t kept his tone in check while speaking to the priest. Father Martin stared at him with a look he couldn’t read, only serving to frustrate him further. He had no way of maintaining his rising levels of anger anymore.

Finally Father Martin coughed, shaking his head. “There won’t be a problem. You’re always welcome, Eddie. As long as you’ve agreed, and it doesn’t interfere with any of your other daily activities. You could always suggest he join some of our youth groups, too. Being around people his age could really help the damage that has been done.”

_‘Absolutely not,’_ Eddie thought. He continued to nod as the older man continued to give suggestions before he was finally dismissed, moving back out into the hall. Eddie nodded his goodbyes, already beginning the trek back to his own room with a set goal in mind.

He had to have everything perfectly prepared for Waylon’s arrival. Eddie felt a strong attraction to the younger man, yes, but Waylon’s recent loss had to be taken into account while Eddie chose what to do with himself as well.

Waylon had to be as grief-stricken as his mother, at least. His father’s death had been so sudden; cardiac arrest. He had heard that Mr. Park had been a good man that had come from a line of Asian descent, living comfortably with his wife and son. He had been a literary teacher, earning the reputation as a kind and gentle man.

Eddie was distraught that he had such information about Waylon’s father, but not Waylon himself. It was almost as if the young man was absent from _everything._ Waylon was the perfect example of an isolated human being. Eddie didn’t need to ask around to know that Waylon was definitely one to prefer to avoid any and all interaction with other people if the scenario presented itself.

It made him curious as to how their first encounter will go. Will the boy shy away?

If he continued to come to the church, it would no doubt be from the influence of his mother. “It’s to help you,” and “You need to get out of the house more,” she would say. Eddie could picture her voice perfectly.

It made Eddie think back to his own childhood. Alma Park seemed like a fairly overprotective woman, her husband having calmed her urges, most-likely. Well- he _used to._

Before Eddie even knew it was happening, he was drowning in memories of his own family. He still thought about his mother constantly; especially her sad blue eyes that would widen in fear every time the front door to their old house opened at the end of the day.

His father had been nothing like his mother. Eddie remembered pain and violence; a blow to the chest, a punch to the face. Standing in between his parents when they were too far gone during a dispute to notice their son begging them to stop.

Eddie’s mother was a beautiful woman with long, curly black hair, large eyes, and a gentle personality. Despite all of the bruises and bandages she’d be covered with, Eddie would always remember her warm smile as she made him breakfast before school. She was almost always smiling, because her son was okay.

But Eddie had never been left the same after… One incident. He closed his eyes, trying and failing to repress the memory of his father bumbling through the door, clothes drenched in the smell of alcohol. He’d thrown his wife to the floor before dragging his son into his room, slamming the door shut behind them.

He knew his mother had been a victim as much as he had, but as the years passed her attempts to save Eddie became weaker and weaker. She would do nothing more than look away as his father trudged up the steps to his son’s room. He used to scream his lungs out.

Eddie loved his mother and never doubted for a second that his mother loved him in return... but the stubbornness that woman possessed to be able to stand beside a monster was hard evidence of the mental abuse she’d gone through to think that loneliness would consume her if she didn’t.

Sometimes Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what his life would’ve been like if he’d grown up with a normal family. Where would he be now if he’d been different, if he’d married, if he could have been someone _normal?_

After his father died, his mother began a slow recovery; both mentally and physically. They began to have a better life, even though his mother had to begin work in order to support both her son and herself.

Eddie had been more than happy to help her with the family business. They’d owned a small dress shop that made clothing for a variety of events; and his mother’s talents that had been passed down onto him brought them all sorts of clientele.

He’d learned how to sew alongside his mother fairly quickly, perfecting his trade in such a small amount of time. Even though the shop hadn’t brought in enough money to give them anything other than the necessities, Eddie had never felt more free within those four years that they coexisted together in that little shop.

But things couldn’t always be perfect.

Father Gluskin placed his face into his hands, letting out a tired sigh as he sat on the edge of his bed. Waylon’s childhood had definitely been better than his own, but at the very least they both understood what loss was. Especially when it had been someone close to them.

It was stupid. It was so, so stupid. And Eddie knew it. Maybe Waylon’s mother had been wrong, and the boy really hadn’t been all that affected by his father’s death. Maybe he was doing much better than Alma herself and just didn’t care to admit it. Or maybe he just wanted to keep his mother’s values.

Maybe she _had_ been wrong. Things can turn out to be much different than how they appear, after all. He shouldn’t make a first-impression without an actual first-impression.

Eddie decided to ignore the thoughts as he readied himself for bed. The day was over, and his mind was still swimming as he laid his head down onto his pillow, staring at the wall parallel to him.

Eddie knew that the next few days were going to be long and tedious, full of desperation at the thought of Waylon’s incoming appearance. He hated the uncertainty that came with it. He hated Ms. Park for not telling him when her son would arrive, he hated not knowing if the boy would really show up at all, and he _hated_ knowing the tendencies that people of his age had when it came to the church.

He hadn’t believed there was a god who could save him when he’d been Waylon’s age. Not after all of the pain and suffering he’d gone through.

Eddie had hated his life. But with the church, things had taken an unexpected turn, and he’d finally found a peace never before experienced. Eddie had decided at that moment what his vocation would be.

Boy, how things had changed since that day. He had felt happy, knowing he had a place in the world and that he could help those who had suffered through the same things he had. That he could help them fight anger, hatred, despair. That he could finally give back.

Oh, how wrong and naive he’d been.

Eddie had never helped anyone. He had become selfish, a hermit, and a scholar who reserved all learned knowledge for himself. He had become someone who looked at others with disgust, as if human contact was a sin in itself.

Eddie didn’t live a happy life. Could he really bring himself to help another? Maybe it could work; _at least_ with Waylon Park. It might be his last chance to believe in something, in _someone._

He’d been right in assuming that the next few days would pass by at a snail’s pace, if it were even possible. Eddie paced back and forth, constantly looking to the main entrance, to the closed doors. If he thought hard enough, maybe he could will Waylon to enter.

But Waylon was nowhere to be found. Eddie could only assume that he wasn’t interested in coming, and that he’d brushed off the wishes of his mother.

After a full week of silence, Eddie’s thoughts of Waylon dulled, fast. He was used to disappointment. But the hours continued to tick by slow for some unforgivable reason. Eddie was losing himself. He didn’t see anything left for him in the future.

As Eddie walked back to his chambers, he felt a weight inside of his chest pushing down on him, making him walk even slower. His mind scattered, pulling him away from reality so far that he didn’t even notice the priest attempting to talk to him.

_‘He’s not coming.’_

Eddie felt a hand on his arm, thrusting him back into reality. He narrowed his eyes, frowning at who he recognized as Father Gregory. The man had the audacity to look worried as Eddie finally gave him the attention he’d wanted.

Eddie was ticked. How dare Gregory touch him without his consent. His frown deepened, “What do you want?” he asked darkly, yanking his arm out of the man’s hold.

Father Gregory seemed surprised at the sudden force, face drooping, tone taking on its own edge of anger as he spoke. "Believe me Gluskin, I want to talk to you as much as you want to talk to me, but this is important. Someone is looking for you. Alma Park’s son, I believe. But if you can’t meet with him, I can tell him-”

Eddie’s eyes widened, “Where is he?” he demanded instantly, cutting off the Father mid-sentence.

Father Gregory raised a brow, turning his back on Gluskin, “He’s in the next chapel over waiting for you.” he said, snorting a short huff before leaving Eddie to himself once more.

Eddie’s lips parted. _‘Is he really here?’_

There was no time to think about it. Eddie widened his strides as he exited the main temple, feeling his stomach drop, heart racing, the urge to run ever-present.

_‘Calm down, Eddie. Just breathe.’_ He repeated to himself as he approached the chapel doors. He stopped in the entryway, looking around.

The chapel was clearly designed for smaller events being the size it was, but the room overall was memorable. There were intricate figures and decorations lining the walls, forming a line that led straight to the altar at the other end of the room.

That’s when Eddie’s eyes landed on a small, thin figure standing before said altar. They seemed to be admiring the crystal cross nearby; the sun hit the ornament just right, lighting up the room with several bright, spectacular colors.

Eddie approached slowly, feeling like a teenager again as he sucked in a breath. The boy turned to him as soon as he noticed Eddie’s approach, a look of both surprise and curiosity adorning his features.

His eyes were… _brighter_ than Eddie had remembered. His sand-colored hair was longer too, curling over his ears and the nape of his neck. He had a small pair of lips and a thin face- so delicate. Definitely more attractive than Eddie remembered, too…

The boy’s choice in clothing consisted of a red-and-black flannel and dark jeans, black converse, and a small watch strapped over his right wrist. He wasn’t as short as Eddie remembered, either; but still, almost everyone looked so much smaller to him at his own height and weight.

Eddie was delighted. The boy’s informal appearance was almost fascinating, and he couldn’t help the spark of joy that shot through him at the sight. But he had to keep his composure, remain serious. It was becoming more and more difficult by the minute. 

Waylon clearly noticed, his gaze tilting downwards before he summoned the courage to meet the eyes of the Father again, trying to stay relaxed and unconcerned. He wanted to get their meeting over with as soon as possible.

"You must be Father Gluskin, right?" Waylon asked carefully, raising his hand in greeting. He even allowed a small smile to fall over his lips as the priest accepted the offer, shaking his hand.

Meanwhile, Eddie felt ready to have a heart attack. _‘Remember how to breathe…’_

Waylon released his hand, letting it fall to his side lazily. “My name is Waylon Park. My mother must’ve told you I was coming- It’s a pleasure to meet you.”


	3. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie's anxiety peaks from his first talk with Waylon, and he figures out what's really bothering the young adult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that the updates this story will be weekly for the most part, but I have absolutely no idea what days, or when. I'm really only given weekends to work now, but even then, things can come up on my days off, too. Once June passes, I know I'll have a lot more free time on my hands to work on this. Thank you all for your patience. :)
> 
> **thelovearesick:** Third chapter ready. I am so happy and excited! Rereading everything makes me feel better in some way. I hope people enjoy this story and this great translation as much as I enjoy it. Thanks to Peachy for this amazing job!

_‘You’re an idiot, Eddie.’_

That was the first thought the priest had as his heart continued to beat erratically, mind scattering. Maybe he was moving too fast. Could he walk away and pretend he was busy? No, it’d be too obvious now.

Why couldn’t he just calm down?

If Eddie felt like a teenager before, he certainly felt like one now. Although he couldn’t recall acting like _this_ in his youth. He’d never met anyone that made him feel the way he did right now, and even so, he would’ve easily managed to shove the thoughts down far enough that they’d never be seen again.

He was acting like a complete _idiot._ But there would always be another place and time to reprimand himself. Now was not the time. The reason?

Waylon Park was sitting _right in front of him._

“My mum said I should come here, so ah... here I am, I guess.” said Waylon, his speech more than a little clumsy. He sat rigidly; Eddie could practically _feel_ his uncomfortableness. Not a single movement he made was lost to the priest.

Which reminded him, he should probably respond. “Yes, I can tell that your mother is very worried about you. Especially with the situation you’re both living with now-- It can be hard to cope, and sometimes talking to someone can be the only proper alternative.”

Waylon hunched over, cringing, “Well, I’m not sure what I’d talk about, really.” the blonde continued, wringing his hands together over his lap. Somehow he looked even _more_ uncomfortable than before.

Eddie cleared his throat, trying to put on the warmest smile he could manage. “You don’t have to feel nervous, Waylon. I’m here to listen and help you work things out. There’s nothing wrong with having to talk to someone; is it because you’ve never spoken with anyone in the church before?”

“Well yeah, but I also don’t know if I... No, it’s nothing.”

“No please, feel free to say whatever you have to say.” said Eddie, shaking his head while brushing off the previous statement with a quick wave of his hand.

Waylon seemed to hesitate. Eddie even noticed one his legs bouncing up and down under the table they sat at. It was soft- cute, even. Did Waylon understand how adorable he was being?

It was hard for Eddie to avoid distraction. Both of them were nervous, but for two completely different reasons. But playing the role he was, Eddie had to force himself to keep his composure if not for his sake, then for Waylon’s.

Finally, Waylon sighed. “... I just don’t know if I’d consider myself a believer, Father.”

...Oh. That was it, was it?

Waylon’s eyes finally rose to meet Eddie’s, expression etched in apology from his previous statement. Eddie was struggling himself to come up with a reply that was neither harsh nor soft. His feelings definitely weren’t helping him come to a decision, either.

“...That’s a common thought to have, especially at your age.” -Nailed it. Eddie wanted to give himself a medal. “I can understand your doubts, and combined with your lack of involvement in the church it must be hard.”

Eddie took a deep breath before continuing, breathing out from his nose. “Perhaps you should get to know the church, and start trying to make peace with what’s been going on in your life. Who knows; you might find some of the answers you’re looking for.”

Waylon nodded. “Yeah, my mom told me the same thing. Maybe the questions come from the fact that I’ve been so distant with this place... That’s why I came to be honest with you, Father. I mean, I’ve got nothing to lose, right?”

...Huh. Waylon definitely didn’t seem to be as troublesome as his mother had said. He clearly had problems with insecurity and isolation, sure, but Eddie didn’t see any real social apathy or challenge of authority anywhere in his tone. He seemed more like the shy, quiet type.

Eddie found it fascinating. Waylon seemed to be mature enough to be polite and courteous around new people, even through his question of faith. It was… Interesting. Very interesting, actually.

“You’re a very kind and focused young man, Waylon- may I call you Waylon?” Eddie actually felt a few beads of sweat gather over his forehead, once again trying to just relax, and breathe.

Waylon didn’t seem to notice. He sputtered, “S-sure, no problem.” said the blonde, lip quivering.

Oh god, it was _too cute._ Wait, no. _No._ Why couldn’t he stop thinking cutsie things about Waylon?! It made Eddie feel as guilty as ever. He averted his eyes, trying to refocus on their conversation. It was just a conversation, after all!

Eddie clenched his robes under the table where Waylon wouldn’t be able to see his apparent nervousness, moving forward. “Well Waylon, I’m here to answer any questions you may have about your faith and the church. You can come by anytime you’re available. I do have work inside of the church as well, but I’m almost always free during afternoons and evenings. I’m not part of the coordination of events, so my schedule is far from tight.

“Of course, I would need to know if you intend on coming again.”

Waylon pressed his lips together, falling silent. Tension seized him, causing the smaller man to think at a million miles a minute just to come up with an answer. His leg began to bounce even faster.

Eddie wasn’t sure what he could do to help him; whether he should say something, or wait for an answer. If Waylon felt uncomfortable now, he might not want to come again; Eddie didn’t even want to _think_ of such a thing, much less let it happen. He had to think fast and avoid scaring the young man, but Eddie feared he’d already done just that.

“If you feel uncomfortable, we could always address other issues if you feel ready. Maybe your school, friends, hobbies? I’m not sure what you prefer to discuss, but we don’t have to talk about any of that if you don’t want to.” Add another gold medal to the roster, Eddie felt he was on _fire._

Waylon nodded, slow. Social pressure, maybe? “Okay,” he squeaked, furrowing his brows, “Okay, I guess I can try. ...I can come when I leave school; I get out at 2. I’m sorry if I’m causing any trouble Father Gluskin-”

“No need to use last names, Waylon. You can just call me Father Eddie. It won’t be any inconvenience to me, I promise.” said Eddie, his posture still as stiff as ever. He smiled, and soon after, Waylon smiled back.

Thank _god_ Waylon didn’t know what he was doing do Eddie internally. The older man tensed as his smile faltered, realizing the strain between them from before was back, and more powerful than ever.

“...I should probably go, I still have a few things to do today. And my mother, you know?” said Waylon, slicing said tension in half.

Eddie gulped. "Well then… I’ll see you again this week, Waylon?”

Waylon smiled an awkward smile, tilting his head as nod. “Yeah, in a few days… Father Eddie. Uh… I hope you have a good day.”

They both stood at that, Waylon already heading for the exit. Eddie didn’t really want their first meeting to end like that, but there really wasn’t any more he could say since it was Waylon’s first time talking to him.

Then again, Eddie was more than delighted to hear that Waylon would be coming back. It began to close the hole that had been left in his chest from the previous week, if only a little. Eddie saw him out, finding Ms. Park sitting in a small gray car outside with a large grin plastered across her face. Eddie found it unsettling, to say the least.

Waylon turned back around before he left, one hand clinging to the doorframe. “Thank you for listening, Father Eddie. … See you in a few days?”

Eddie nodded, “See you then.” at that they shook hands briefly, Waylon retreating into his mother’s car as soon as he was released. God, Eddie felt like an idiot. A complete _idiot._

Eddie hurried back into the chapel as soon as the car was out of sight, shutting the door behind him. He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair before forcing himself to stand straighter.

Well, now Eddie would have to find a way to be patient- an ability he usually lacked. What was the saying; _‘Patience is a virtue’?_ Maybe thinking about the meeting they just had would help.

Waylon was definitely an anxious type of person, his nervousness increasing tenfold when the topic of religion was brought up. Maybe next time Eddie should start slower, and they could talk about something informal, something that was relaxing; something he could use to get a conversation flowing. It would be a difficult task, but Eddie was determined to manage.

Was there even anything that he had in common with Waylon? As Eddie walked to his bedroom, he tried to think of different things they could talk about next time.

Music? Eddie was certain they wouldn’t have the same tastes. He’d always listened to his mother’s music, and that genre wasn’t even close to being recent. Cinema? Hah. Eddie had been more focused on his own misery more than any movies coming to theaters. 

Was there anything else? Eddie felt pretty pathetic for giving up already.

“Father Gluskin! I heard Mr. Park came by!”

Eddie’s eyes rolled back into his head before he turned around, smiling, "Father Martin," he greeted, slowing his pace as the much older man caught up to him. “Yes, you just missed him. We talked briefly before he agreed to begin meeting with me after he gets out of school in the afternoons. What do you need with him?”

Father Martin smiled, “That’s great news! I was just hoping that you would involve him in the parish activities. Did you tell him about our youth groups?”

“Of course,” Eddie lied. “But he seems a bit hesitant right now. Maybe we can integrate him little by little in the future.”

Martin’s smile faltered. He didn’t seem unhappy; but he was definitely thinking. “Yes- of course. Take your time.”

“I don’t want to sound rude Father Martin, but if you’ll excuse me I have some things I really need to attend to.” said Eddie, increasing both the length of his strides and his speed. Anything to get away from the older priest.

It was clear that Father Martin didn’t want their conversation end right then and there, but Eddie was a difficult man to keep up with, both mentally and physically. Besides, Eddie wasn’t fond of having conversations with the priest. He really _did_ have more important things to think about.

The following days passed by just as slowly as the ones leading up to Waylon’s first visit. _‘Patience Eddie, patience. He’s coming back.’_ The thought was the only thing that kept Eddie’s temper in check, really. He wasn’t exactly the best at being ‘patient’.

Although Eddie had never talked to anyone about it, he’d always felt different compared to the people around him. It was cliche, yes, but he didn’t feel different like other people might. There were standards to fill with the duties he’d been given that he just couldn’t carry out, socializing with the community being the big one. His anger and rage wouldn’t allow it.

It was times like these where Eddie _really_ wished he could just be a hermit. He really, really did.

As he walked down one of the church’s seemingly endless corridors, Eddie heard a familiar voice echoing in the distance. The nervousness, the stutters; they had only met for a short amount of time, but Eddie would recognize that sweet, sweet music to his ears anywhere.

As Eddie picked up the pace, he managed to locate the source of the voice at the front entrance with… With Father Martin. What the hell?

“Oh, here he is,” said Father Martin, raising a hand towards Eddie, who now stood across the room.

Eddie almost forgot how to walk as he approached, his smile reflecting all sorts of emotions as Father Martin turned to him, "Mr. Park asked me about you, but I wasn’t sure where you were. It was certainly lucky for you to come here--”

"Hi Father Eddie. I hope you're not busy today." Waylon spoke next, cutting Martin off. His voice had a small hint of joy behind it that caused the previous tension in Eddie’s shoulders to dissipate.

The smile Eddie gave both Waylon and Father Martin was sincere as he replied, “I suppose it _was_ lucky,” he said to Martin, quickly turning his attention to Waylon instead. “Of course not, Waylon. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. Would you like to go to the chapel?”

Waylon grinned, “I didn’t wait long at all. With you permission, Father Martin?” the blonde asked, eyes glinting as he moved his gaze to Father Martin.

As soon as the elder man nodded, Eddie let out a long-awaited sigh of relief, and they began their walk towards the chapel they’d met at days before. It was what seemed appropriate, anyway.

Even though Waylon followed close behind, Eddie slowed his pace to match the smaller man’s. He didn’t want to stray too far from Waylon’s presence.

Maybe he should make conversation? Eddie cleared his throat. “How are you doing, Waylon? How are your classes?”

Waylon scratched the back of his neck, looking down to the floor as they walked. “I’m doing okay. I think I’ve finally decided to keep on going with the classes instead of staying home all the time. My mum’s still worried though; I’m not sure what she expects me to do.”

“Your mother made it seem like you cut yourself off from her when she’d come to talk with me, but it seems like you’ve been making good choices. Maybe you should bring her from time to time, too.” The words came out before Eddie could control himself, regret hitting him instantaneously. Why did he say that…?!

Waylon looked back up to him, smile as lively as ever. “She goes to support groups in town, but I’d rather come here than go there, honestly. I think it’s because she likes to talk in groups more than I do. But thank you for the offer anyway, Father Gl- Um, Father Eddie.”

The older man stood straighter, furrowing his brows. Did Waylon almost call him Father Gluskin again? One look at Waylon’s awkward expression and brief, “Sorry” told him that yes, yes he had. The respect aimed towards him was certainly appreciated, though. It only intrigued Eddie further.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Waylon. You can call me either, really; whatever makes you more comfortable here.” said Eddie, offering another smile. Waylon still radiated nervousness, but the grin from before returned soon enough.

The rest of their walk continued in silence until Eddie located a small meeting room near the chapel they’d originally aimed for. Waylon seemed content enough when Eddie brought him to the door, so they entered.

A few tables and chairs were propped up across the room, and Waylon decided to take a seat at one of the smaller tables. Eddie turned the lights on before closing the door behind them, sitting himself down in the chair across from Waylon.

“So, you said you’ve been going back to school. Have you been feeling better since your return? Has it been motivational?” Eddie began, starting small, like he’d told himself to do.

Waylon glanced around the room before responding, “I wouldn’t say it's ‘motivational’, but I guess I’ve felt a little bit better since. I mean, I’m getting closer to graduation and college, so I still have to prepare for it and everything that comes after.”

“Oh? What do you want to go into?”

Eddie could see Waylon’s leg begin to bounce like the last time he’d seen him as he replied, "Well ... I’ve really been aiming for software engineering. Maybe I.T. if that doesn’t work out. I don’t know, sharing it has been pissing me off lately.” Waylon’s voice lowered at the last comment, as if he’d never wanted to have to say it out loud.

Eddie shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with what you want to do, Waylon. You shouldn’t let negative comments people make about your trade get to you, or influence your decision; not even your mother’s.”

Waylon eyes widened as he leaned back into his chair. It was a response he hadn’t expected, especially from a priest. ‘Don’t let them get to you.’

The blonde tilted his head. “I’m sorry if this sounds weird, but shouldn’t you be telling me otherwise, being a priest and all? Y’know, telling me stuff like, ‘You should obey your parents,’ or ‘Fulfill your family’s wishes,’...?”

"Sometimes our parents can be wrong, Waylon. They’re not perfect, and your life shouldn’t be dictated by them. It’s not natural to stay stuck to your family’s occupation forever.”

Waylon chuckled, “I hope this doesn’t offend you; I don’t mean it in an offensive way, but- You’re kind of weird.”

This time it was Eddie’s turn to be surprised. He coughed, gaze turning away from Waylon as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve been considered an abnormality among the others from time to time. …I suppose you could be right.”

“Being weird isn’t always a bad thing, though. It can be nice.” Waylon continued, sounding like he was trying to make up for his last statement. The words echoed in Eddie’s ears. They continued to echo even after they both fell silent.

Maybe Waylon just didn’t understand why he considered himself different; _weird._

Well, at least the conversation was flowing well enough. Waylon seemed to be much more relaxed than before, a small laugh escaping his lips as he watched Eddie think. Maybe it was good that he finally had someone to talk to besides his obsessive mother.

Speaking of which, "Are you worried about your mother, Waylon?" Eddie finally asked, breaking the small lapse of silence between them.

Waylon looked back down, smile disappearing. “...Yeah. I am. My dad’s business going under because of what happened really shook her up. I don’t even know how to comfort her anymore, just… It’s a mess.”

His voice was so… Saddening. Eddie had to summon as much willpower as he could get not to pull Waylon into his arms right then and there. The young man’s defenses had dropped, and there was a certain vulnerability to him that drove Eddie mad.

“It’s hard to tackle the problem head-on while it’s still fresh. You should give her more time to recover, little by little; things may return to how they were soon enough.” Eddie tried instead, giving himself a mental high-five.

But Waylon wasn't done just yet, "That’s the problem, Father. Even since my dad died, she’s turned into a whole other person. At this point _I’m_ not even sure if she’ll ever go back to normal." he said, letting out a small huff before looking back down, drumming his fingers against his lap. Another nervous tic, probably.

"My mum’s always nervous about something. She has a lot of irrational fears, but it’s never affected me before. Even for a couple years when I was younger, it was like she was afraid of _everything._ My dad told me it’d be temporary, and that it was only happening to her because we’d just moved.”

Waylon’s voice shook, “When she didn’t get better, he thought moving back home would calm her down. But then… We had the accident and she just... snapped.” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. Eddie knew what had happened from there; the car accident that’d killed Mr. Park.

Mr. Park had been a friend to all, really. The loss had been a huge deal to all of their friends and neighbors; and people had come out to the fragile Alma Park, ready to help.

“Do you feel like you’re responsible for taking care of her, Waylon?”

It sounded like Waylon was trying to suck in a sob before he answered him. “I’m the only one that can- It _is_ my responsibility.”

Eddie understood the feeling more than anyone else. The image of his own mother flashed in the back of his mind for only a brief moment before he focused back on Waylon. Waylon; the boy who had the weight of the world resting on his shoulders.

“You’re far too young to have to carry such a heavy load. Do you need me to get anyone for-?”

Waylon shook his head violently. “No- no. I just… I need to get used to it. Maybe my dad was right, and I just need to wait it out. Besides… I think this is helping me a lot already.”

Eddie’s brows lowered. "How am I helping you, Waylon?"

The blonde shrugged, shrinking into his seat. “Well… You listen to me.”

Eddie clicked his jaw into place; how would he be able to respond to _that?_ And Waylon’s smile was returning again, a mixture of shyness and joy… What could he do?

He didn’t have much to offer to Waylon; he knew that. But having the young man say he was helping, _this young man_ telling him that their visit was working, if only a little… Eddie was so, so grateful. And he understood him completely.

“...You know I’ll be here for you whenever you need me, Waylon.” And his words had never been more sincere. Eddie wasn’t able to stop himself from placing his hand atop Waylon’s- but as a gesture of kindness only. 

Waylon relaxed at that, his shoulders slumping. Good; he was calming down. Eddie retracted his hand as Waylon switched subjects. “My mum’s very fond of you, you know. I’m sorry, it’s strange-”

“Don’t worry, it’s understandable.” said Eddie, blue eyes glistening. “Did she tell you to listen to me?”

Waylon’s cheeks reddened at the statement. “Yeah, basically. She told me you seemed different from the rest of the priests here, and she might’ve been right… Well, in the sense that it’s good to talk with this kind of freedom to someone inside of a _church.”_

Eddie chuckled. “When you’re young, it’s hard to believe that people will be able to understand you because of age, or your conditions; but believe me when I say there are many ways to have your voice heard by others. Sometimes we search in the wrong places or believe in wrong answers when there are people out there that really do care.

“Would you like for me to help you, Waylon?” he asked softly. Waylon nodded instantly, eyes still trained on Eddie’s. The blush remained ever-present, too.

Eddie felt… Sleepy. No, not sleepy-- relaxed? Was this how it felt to be at peace?

Soon enough they were walking back to the entrance of the building, continuing on casual conversation. Waylon’s laughter was certainly contagious, but Eddie couldn’t help but wonder whether he was laughing out of politeness, or if he actually found Eddie’s commentary amusing.

Once they were at the entrance, Eddie turned to the younger man. “I guess I’ll see you again in a few days, Waylon.”

Waylon’s eyes looked hopeful. “Actually, I was wondering if I could come tomorrow afternoon? If it’s not an issue, of course.”

Eddie practically gleamed, “Not at all. Tomorrow then,” he breathed, offering a small handshake once more before Waylon departed.

Ms. Park's car disappeared as soon as Waylon stepped into it, but Eddie still remained, watching the sunset looming over the horizon. It almost felt like the first time he’d met Waylon.

The only difference was that he didn’t feel so hollow anymore.


	4. Aberratio Ictus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What better place for them to talk than at a fundraiser?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh. This story might actually get caught up sooner than I anticipated. Yaaay :)
> 
> **thelovearesick:** Enjoy!

_‘I’d always thought it was an aberration.’_

All throughout his life, Eddie had thought his attraction to men had been disgusting. Wrong. A sin. He wouldn’t take any advice. Homosexuality was something that should never be discussed. His father had made sure of that.

Homosexuality was a sin that needed to be cleansed from everyone infected by it. The idea had been such a huge part of the many things drilled into Eddie’s head as a child that adulthood had become actual hell. He functioned to be prejudiced. 

Deny, deny, deny. But denial didn’t change the simple fact that he’d always been attracted to the same sex.

It had started when he’d been a teenager and had started taking notice in the other boys his age. The discovery had been so horrifying to him that it had become the real reason he preferred to isolate himself from everyone else. Work alone, study alone, live alone. Eddie had grown accustomed to it.

Everyone had considered him a ‘problem child’ despite the fact that he’d never really done anything _wrong._ Eddie hadn’t been a social butterfly, that much was obvious, but he hadn’t actually been aggressive with _anyone_ back then.

His old therapist used to teach him how to control his anger. How to suppress it when he was in front of others, despite the chain of abuse and frustration that had been a part of his family’s history. But Eddie hadn’t returned to her; instead, he’d found a much easier alternative to calm himself down. He was going to become a priest.

Hilariously, Eddie’s family had never been religious. Eddie had always believed that if there really was a god out there, it was an entity that wanted to push him down, not build him up. It had been hard when he’d started going to the seminary because of that reason.

All of Eddie’s actions had led to this very moment. When he was younger, he would’ve considered becoming a priest to be salvation; a way to relieve himself from the pain and torment he’d gone through. But now it was nothing more than a curse that pulled him further and further away from reality with every day that passed.

Even worse, Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about Waylon Park. No matter how hard he tried, the thought of him wouldn’t budge. He wanted to forget the young man’s voice, his scent, the way he moved… But he just couldn’t do it.

It didn’t matter if he’d just woken up, if it was the middle of the day, or if he was in bed trying to sleep. Waylon would always be there in his mind, twenty four-seven, like he was nicotine and Eddie was an addict. It didn’t matter that Waylon visited constantly; Eddie just needed more, more, _more._

Waylon couldn’t be an aberration. It just wasn’t something Eddie could picture. He was too sweet, too pure. Every time he came to the church, Eddie would learn new things about him; his tastes, the way he held himself, his shyness.

It had made their conversations hard to maintain, but Eddie had found a way. He was slowly gaining more and more access into the wonderful mind that was Waylon Park. The problem was that Eddie had no idea what he wanted to gain from seeing him. Acquaintanceship? Friendship?

It really did make Eddie feel pathetic. It was already strange that he wanted to talk to a boy Waylon’s age as much as he did; it was even more of a red flag that he wanted to be his _friend._

Waylon had needed a counselor (Or as much of one as he could get) to give him advice and help him out with how shaky his situation at home was. He didn’t need whatever sick excuse for high school drama Eddie brought with him.

Eddie couldn’t handle it; it was _wrong._ He began to feel that hidden, repressed side of him slipping free.

Things had become much more complicated since his first visit with Waylon. Eddie didn’t even know what to believe in anymore. Maybe it was Waylon who was putting all of the obstacles in his way, causing him to feel the things he did. He wasn’t supposed to be a part of anyone’s life; this hadn’t been part of the plan. He wasn’t supposed to do this to himself.

What the hell was happening to him...?

* * *

The days that Waylon didn’t come dragged along like usual. They had begun to meet over two weeks ago, and Eddie had never felt better. Funny, since Waylon was the one who had come to _him_ to get better.

Waylon’s personality was simple and _adorable._ There was just something about him, the way he couldn’t keep anything hidden for long.

Another thing Eddie had to continue to do was calm himself down whenever the blonde was near.

The days Waylon didn’t come usually had something to do with homework, or taking care of his mother. Or he just needed the quiet; those few rare moments of relaxation that came and went in the blink of an eye.

Eddie could understand how he felt. He’d spent his youth in a similar fashion.

When Waylon wasn’t around and Eddie wasn’t working, he’d usually lock himself in his room for a number of reasons; he wanted to meditate, read the bible, needed to pray. Anything that’d keep Father Martin away from him. The old man’s persistence in getting Waylon to join their youth groups was becoming more and more annoying each day.

Eddie had always been a selfish person, and Waylon was no exception. Waylon rarely talked to the other priests, but when he did, Eddie would show his displeasure through looks he would give them when they did try talking to him. Behind Waylon’s back, of course. He didn’t want to risk frightening the younger man.

The others would _always_ back off when Eddie came by. Waylon had no idea what was going on; he would always turn to Eddie with a look of confusion as the older man simply smiled, suggesting they move along.

Sometimes Eddie wondered if Waylon actually did know what he was doing. The younger man never brought it up, but still, he wondered. Sometimes Eddie would berate himself for being too obvious, almost slipping up right in front of him.

Could it be a sin to be so naive? Waylon never really seemed to pay attention to what was happening around him. Sometimes he would fall completely silent around Eddie, staring at the wall, the floor, eyes hollow. Eddie had chalked it all up to the same thing: he was having problems with his mother.

That was another thing Eddie could understand; having problems with parental figures. He wasn’t really sure what to say when Waylon was in a mood, so he assumed it would be safer to just let him talk when he was ready. 

Eddie stood to go to the chapel; maybe he could get some peace and quiet by lighting candles.

He was so absorbed in his task that he flinched at a cold hand placing itself on his shoulder. Eddie narrowed his eyes, whipping around just to come face-to-face with Father Martin. Great.

"Good morning, Father Gluskin! I see you’re up early today,” said the elderly man, dragging his hand down from Eddie’s shoulder, _finally._ “Enthusiastic this morning, are we? What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing, Father Martin. I just wanted to get a head-start to the day is all,” Eddie huffed, continuing to light the candles in front of him. 

Father Martin clearly couldn’t detect the hostile edge to Eddie’s voice, deciding to take a step closer to him as he continued, "I wanted to inform you that we’re going to be having a fundraiser in the parish soon. There’ll be food, second-hand goods, games; lots of fun stuff. Is it okay if we assign you an area?”

There was always something about Father Martin’s words that was condescending. Like he was saying, "I know you hate everyone, but I'll force you to participate if I have to." 

Eddie wasn’t afraid to roll his eyes in front of Father Martin, either. And that’s exactly what he did as he responded. “Fine. I guess I could help out with one of the sales or something…”

“They’re all sales, Eddie.” said Father Martin, speaking softly and kindly with every word. It might just be one of the things Eddie hated the most about him.

Eddie couldn’t help it. Father Martin’s kindness always seemed more forced than genuine, even on a good day. It was a tone Eddie had never been able to stand, and Martin had to know it, too.

“Your assignment will be selling cakes, along with making sure everything is in order in case there’s a problem. Oh, maybe you could tell Mr. Park to come! He could bring his mother too, a good distraction for both of them. There’s lots of…”

Eddie’s mind blanked as soon as Waylon’s name was mentioned. He was so lost in his own thoughts that Father Martin slipped away halfway through his speech, a knowing smile on his face. Everyone had begun to notice the way Eddie treated Waylon compared to others.

Which brought him back to the subject at hand. Was it a good idea to invite Waylon? There wasn’t really anything that told him ‘no’, and Martin had been right when he’d mentioned it being a good a distraction for him.

Maybe inviting Waylon and his mother would be a good way to see what the two of them together was like firsthand. If he saw how clingy and overprotective Alma Park got, maybe he could figure out how to help Waylon. And it might just be a good enough excuse to be able to spend more time with him…

Sometimes Eddie wanted to smack his brain right in its stupid face for making him think such things. But still, the thought of being around Waylon in such a casual environment sent butterflies into his chest. If he thought hard enough, it could be considered a _date._

Eddie could recall going on a date only once in his life, and it had just been one of many mistakes. It was with a girl in his class when he’d still been in highschool, and it had ended as soon as it’d started. Her name had been Sara, and Eddie always tried to forget her greasy face across the restaurant table as well as her more-than-exposed cleavage.

No, the thought of Waylon was much more appealing. Eddie tried to imagine his soft eyes and clumsy hands trying to figure out what he wanted to buy while soft music played over the speakers inside of the parish.

If this was as close as Eddie could get to a date with the person he was after then by god, he would take it. It was sick, but Eddie still managed to find comfort within it. This time would be different; and instead of a disgusting whore at the other end of his table, it would be Waylon.

* * *

Well, at least Eddie had _some_ persuasive power. It didn’t take much to convince Waylon to attend the fundraiser, and to his surprise Waylon’s mother had even gone so far as to volunteer at one of the stands. It seemed that lady luck was on his side that day.

At Father Martin's request, Eddie had situated himself at the cake stand, a few ladies serving out slices. Eddie couldn’t help but turn his gaze to the other stands, trying to spot Alma Park. He didn’t know where she was supposed to be; Eddie tried not to think about the possibility that the woman had made her son sit with her or worse, Waylon had decided to stay home after all.

He just couldn’t be patient for a day in his life, could he?

Listening to the ladies talk beside him wasn’t so appealing, either. Some of them had tried talking to him in the beginning, but quickly gave up once they realized that it was useless. The sound of children running around wasn’t helping his nerves.

When had it all become so _unbearable?_ Eddie had to calm down, lest he throw himself into a fit of rage. He wasn’t used to being around so many people at a time, and the fundraiser had only just begun.

A series of footsteps approached his stand. Eddie looked up to greet the potential customer, more than delighted to find that it was Waylon Park standing in front of him, smile big and eyes shining.

His clothes were as casual as usual; worn denim jeans, black tennis shoes, and a dark blue t-shirt with a logo so faded Eddie wasn’t even able to guess as to what it had once been. Adorable as always; Eddie would think he looked cute in _anything._

“Whelp… We’re here,” Waylon chuckled. A few mothers nearby looked up from where they stood, staring at the two of them.

Most of them probably recognized Waylon’s voice since his mother Alma was so keen on introducing him to everyone in the community. It was probably strange for them to see the younger man out and about after so long.

Eddie immediately stood from his chair, wooden legs skidding back against the floor, “Nice to see you, Waylon. How have you been? Where’s your mother?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could despite the sea of nerves crashing inside of him. Well, at least he didn’t stutter.

Waylon turned his gaze to the left, pointing a finger towards a stand at the other end of the line. Eddie followed his eyes, finding Ms. Park arranging and serving food at a hamburger stand.

The blonde turned back to Eddie. “I hope this’ll be good for her. Participating and stuff, y’know? She seems happy; I haven’t seen her this way in a long time.”

Watching Alma Park at her stand was certainly… calming. Eddie had to admit that he’d judged her a bit harshly since she was known to most as melodramatic. But now that Eddie thought about it, she’d gone through thick and thin, even sacrificing her own life just to make sure her son’s was better.

Eddie actually smiled. “She’s definitely trying her best. I can tell she really loves you, Waylon.”

Eddie wasn’t sure when he’d abandoned his task in favor of walking around with Waylon, but he guessed it didn’t really matter. Being with the younger man was relaxing and, dare he admit, _pleasurable._

The conversation about his mother continued with Waylon’s next words. “She’s been talking about this for days, and it’s definitely been calming her down. It’s nice.”

"Well, she doesn’t seem like the only one. You seem much happier today too,” Eddie pointed out.

When Waylon’s gaze rose to meet his, Eddie swore he saw a blush covering the blonde’s cheeks for that split second before he looked away. The priest swallowed heavily, trying to focus on anything, _anything_ else.

Luckily Waylon continued on their conversation, “I guess you're right… Eddie. Maybe it's the quiet, or the atmosphere… Who knows. But I like the fresh air and the smell of food cooking. I dunno, maybe it’s the company you’re giving me.”

Eddie felt his heart knot up at the younger man’s words, trying to will his face not to burn as Waylon stared at him with a gentle half-smile. _‘Will these tests never end?!’_

Eddie didn’t respond as they continued forward, both trying to ignore how close they were to each other as they did so. The silence wasn’t entirely uncomfortable; Eddie managed to find some peace within it.

The afternoon passed by quietly, just like Eddie had hoped it would.

Eddie had encouraged Waylon to try some of the foods offered that the blonde had never had before, remaining close to Eddie all the while. The priest was certain that after an hour or so Waylon would want to run around the fundraiser on his own, but as soon as that didn’t happen, he was more than relieved.

Father Martin and some of the other members greeted Waylon excitedly as they passed. Eddie didn’t even feel bothered by it, allowing himself to succumb to the air of happiness surrounding the whole day. Even the others were surprised at the trueness of his smiles and conversation as they made their way on by.

Waylon was more than happy to try a little bit of everything in the stands that they passed. Eddie had wondered for a brief moment how Waylon could eat so much yet remain as thin as he was, but that thought was brushed aside as soon as he saw the look of happiness over his face.

The young man’s enthusiasm had lead them straight to an empty table at the center of it all, a couple hot dogs and juice bottles resting between them. Eddie allowed his gaze to fall right on Waylon as the younger man started to eat, clearly oblivious to the priest’s wanting stare.

Waylon only looked back up when Eddie sighed, “Aren’t you mad?” the priest asked softly, eyes flickering down to the food sitting beneath him. Eddie wasn’t the fondest of fast food, but he wasn’t really in much of a position to complain.

“What do you mean?” Waylon asked, wiping his condiment-stained cheeks with a napkin. His eyes then turned to Eddie’s untouched food, then back to the priest himself. “Do you not like hot dogs?”

Eddie shook his head, “No no, hot dogs are fine. But aren’t you upset that you haven’t had the chance to be alone today? There are a lot of things to do here; maybe you’d feel better without my boring old company.”

“You’re not boring at all,” said Waylon with a smile, palms slamming down onto the table. Eddie raised his brows; did Waylon actually mean it?

As they continued to eat, Eddie found it increasingly easier to talk to Waylon without as much formality as they’d had during their meetings in the church. It was even more of a relief to hear Waylon call him by his regular name, and not ‘Father’ every few seconds. Was that unholy?

Waylon’s confidence was definitely bringing up his own, and soon Eddie was beginning to find things about Waylon he’d never noticed before. His heart was racing even faster, unable to act like an adult for even a moment and just breathe.

He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t imagined Waylon sitting and laughing with him during the fundraiser. Waylon had even decided to come clean about all of his aspirations, hobbies; it was almost like they’d been friends for years.

Once they were done with their food, they made their way to the booths selling trinkets and second-hand gadgets. There were even contests to win teddy bears, stuffed animals and other prizes for things like knocking over a tower of bottles or hitting a bell hard enough with a mallet.

And it was funny, out of all of the stands, games, people, Waylon’s attention was locked firmly on a table with one woman standing behind it. The table had a pair of pales atop it, along with some clothes that seemed like they were there for the people that were interested.

As Waylon dragged them along, Eddie almost wanted to laugh at the irony of what Waylon was taking them too. It was sort of a mock-wedding booth, completely fake and improvised.

Waylon immediately looked up to him with a devilish smirk, eyes hiding something evil as he said, "We should get married."

Waylon wouldn’t take any complaints as his hands immediately grabbed for the plastic veil lying on the counter. He laughed a not-so innocent laugh as he grabbed a top hat nearby, holding it up in Eddie’s direction.

It really was supposed to be something innocent, but Eddie saw so much more behind it. Eddie wasn’t sure what he should be doing; he certainly _did not_ approve of same-sex marriage, but the idea of having the wedding from his childhood was really the big picture he saw through all of it.

Eddie ended up grabbing the hat from the younger man’s hands, slowly placing it atop his head. The woman running the booth was young, watching the two with a wide smile. She probably assumed that it was some sort of joke between the two, taking one look at the grin Waylon still wore as Eddie put the hat on.

Waylon sat down in one of the chairs, adjusting the veil so it wouldn’t hurt his scalp. It was certainly hard to keep on his head, considering that the headband was partially broken. The blonde placed a finger on it to keep it in place as Eddie sat robotically, looking in every direction to make sure no one he knew was around to witness their ‘coupling’.

The woman running the booth asked them for their names and went over what they would do, but her words were nothing but a dull roar to Eddie’s ears. She rounded the table, beginning a mockery of an actual marriage speech as the two sat patiently. Waylon’s smile grew further and further as the woman continued, and Eddie was thankful that neither of them could hear how fast his heart was beating.

"Do you, Waylon Park, agree to stand beside Edward Gluskin in wealth and in poverty, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"”

"I do." Waylon breathed. Eddie let out a small, inaudible sigh.

"And do you, Edward Gluskin, agree to stand beside Waylon Park in wealth and in poverty, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"”

“...I do.” He mumbled, and suddenly they were placing a pair of uncomfortable plastic rings over each other’s fingers before signing a sheet where their marriage was ‘certified’. 

Waylon had asked the woman to take a picture of them on her cell phone as he signed his name, voice full of giggles as the veil fell back onto the chair. He was quick to pick it back up and put it on for the photo as soon as the device was in the woman’s hands.

Once the paper was handed to Eddie, he gripped it tightly between his fingers before signing away. The fake marriage seemed unimportant, yet so significant all at once. And as the woman took the picture, Eddie let out another breath of relief.

Maybe it was the music that drowned out his heavy heart.


	5. Fascinating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything went well at the fundraiser, but Eddie doesn't want things to go further. Did what happen between them mean nothing, or something more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **thelovearesick:** I can not believe how fast the translation will be. I think it is even going to go faster than my writing :'D I hope I will not be so late and able to update and that everything goes hand in hand in a certain way. Thanks Peachy, you're amazing, and thanks to you for reading this story!

Eddie couldn’t think of anything more fun than the time he spent at Waylon’s side. The blonde’s laughter was contagious, spreading throughout the older man as they played carnival-style games. The way Waylon acted was too cute for words; if Eddie hadn’t been lost in the younger man before, he was now.

All of his previous attempts to push both his and Waylon’s feelings aside were forgotten as they continued through the activities of the fundraiser. The discomfort Eddie felt before had been wiped as he watched Waylon throw a baseball, knocking over five glass bottles.

Waylon clapped his hands excitedly as the man running the booth handed over a small panda plushie as a prize. The blonde stared at the doll for less than a second before it was shoved into Eddie’s arms.

The priest flipped the doll over in his hand, piquing a brow. “What? Do you want me to hold it for you?”

Waylon shook his head, laughing, “No, it’s for you! Today has been really fun. Might as well keep it as a memory.” the blonde chuckled innocently, poking the panda’s chest.

Eddie looked to Waylon with confusion. It was the only thing he could do to disguise how hard his heart hammered against his ribs, every resolve in his mind bending, ready to break. 

But like usual, Waylon had no idea what he was doing. His innocence was almost evil. Eddie clenched the doll tighter in his fist, earning a look that was a mixture of both surprise and fear.

“Are you okay?” Waylon asked, pulling Eddie out of his trance.

Eddie simply smiled, ignoring the consistent thuds to his chest. “I’m sorry, Waylon. I was just- I was thinking. Thinking about the upcoming week. Sorry if I scared you. I really appreciate the gift...”

“You probably shouldn’t push yourself like that. Today has been nice. Don’t ruin it over future plans,” said Waylon, tone still as lively as ever. It really was stunning; Eddie had never seen him so happy.

Oh god, why had he tried getting closer to him? Eddie suddenly realized that any closeness to Waylon would only lead to trouble; it was a very, _very_ bad idea. This was _not a date,_ and he had to do something before Waylon’s grabby hands traveled somewhere that wasn’t over Eddie’s own.

“Just one thing,” said Eddie, taking a step away from Waylon’s hold in order to regain himself before he said what he really needed to say.

Waylon gave Eddie a look that forced him to turn away. He couldn’t- He just _couldn’t._ He really needed to calm down, lest he slip up and do something regrettable.

"I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to share so much about yourself to me,” Eddie began, trying out an unsteady smile, “All this formality makes me feel much bigger than I really am.” Good, a good cover.

He must’ve looked like an idiot; the two remained silent for a split second before Waylon started giggling again, nodding at his words, “Okay,” the young man agreed, but nonetheless reached to tug Eddie by the arm along the line of booths.

Maybe there was something about the day that allowed everyone to feel so alive. Waylon certainly looked carefree; and even his mother seemed content with her duties for the day, greeting every customer with a warm smile. Maybe the Park family just needed social interaction to thrive.

As they passed several more stands, the women attending greeted the priest happily. Ms. Alma Park even smiled, taking to her son about everything that had been accomplished throughout the course of the day.

Soon enough, the sun began casting orange and pink rays against the building, signaling that it would be dark out within a half hour or so. Most of the booths had been decorated with Christmas-like lights, allowing the darkening atmosphere to keep the same form of cheerfulness it had all day.

Eddie wasn’t sure whether it was the light’s appearance, his own emotions or his heart, but somehow he managed to find a hint of romance through the look of the lights. He let out a content sigh as he took a seat with Waylon, the two sitting side-by-side.

Waylon’s eyes wandered the building curiously, cheek resting in one of his palms. There was something different about Waylon, being around everyone from the church. Normally the blonde would have difficulty talking to the other priests, or hell, _anyone._ And Eddie considered it progress; his anxiety was lowering, at least for one day.

“You know, sometimes, it’s really hard to break a habit you’ve had forever,” Waylon finally spoke, catching Eddie off-guard. Eddie had been observing the fundraiser along with him; he hadn’t expected a break from the silence.

“What do you mean?”

Waylon rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s hard not to speak to you with all the formality. Even though it's been a short time since I met you, I’ve really began to feel more confident in myself. I really thought that… that maybe we could be friends.”

With that, Waylon’s eyes trailed to Eddie’s. Despite the hints of darkness within his previous comment, he was still smiling.

Eddie really wasn’t sure what to say. Something about having a friendship with Waylon seemed wrong, unnatural. It wasn’t far-fetched, but it was hard for Eddie to picture any younger person wanting to be close to a priest, much less friends.

Putting all of the religion and faith aside, Eddie and Waylon had grown up in two different generations, and in two very different ways. There were hardly any similarities between them.

But Eddie only smiled, nodding. “Habits are hard to break; you’re right there. But I appreciate the fact that... you would consider me a friend. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered you as such before.” And there was sincerity there, too; he really had won a lot today, hadn’t he?

Waylon's gaze darted away from his, a small sigh escaping his lips. “Well, the fundraiser is almost over. I’m sure my mum’s going to come looking for me soon.”

“It _is_ late,” Eddie mumbled, glancing at a clock hanging nearby. “The day is over, anyway. I’m glad both you and your mother decided to come.”

“You know what, I’m glad too. I never thought I’d have so much fun at a church of all places.” The blonde snorted, covering his mouth with a hand. “It was kind of funny, too.”

Just as they stood from the bench, Alma Park rushed towards them wearing the same smile as earlier. She collected her son before thanking Eddie for all he’d done that day, bowing her head gratefully.

Eddie didn’t lose track of Waylon’s reactions; he was as calm as ever in his mother’s arms, posture relaxed. His mother was certainly a large source of the tension in his life; it was amazing to see both of them so relaxed around one another.

“Well, it was fun,” Waylon shrugged, smiling. “I’ll try to come back in a couple days; maybe I’ll bring a surprise, too.”

Eddie raised a hand, shaking his head. “You don’t have to bring anything. Just talking to you would be enough for me.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how to say goodbye. He extended his hand for a handshake, and was more than surprised when Waylon brushed him aside, wrapping thin arms around his torso instead. Waylon was _hugging him._

He felt an immediate pang of panic rush through his body at the show of affection, unsure of what he should be doing with his hands. Finally, he decided to pat Waylon on the back before the younger man pulled away. Eddie almost mourned the loss of contact.

“I’ll see you soon, Eddie.” said Waylon, waving his goodbyes as he walked to a car where his mother was already waiting for him. They were out of sight in mere seconds; Eddie clutched his forehead, groaning. _‘What just happened, exactly?’_

Eddie thought back on the details of the day; he felt obsessive for doing it, but he couldn't help it. It had been such a good day. He thought back to all the walking, the laughter, the general unconcern surrounding them. 

Everything about Waylon had been so adorable, like always. Eddie felt like a weirdo for idolizing the younger man’s traits as much as he did. Waylon was just an average, ordinary teenager after all!

He was kind to his mother, and disciplined. He liked computer science, video games and science fiction films. He was a casual dresser. His laughter could be nervous, but contagious and fun when he was feeling relaxed. He wasn’t a fan of sports or physical activity.

Normal. Ordinary. The only difference he had to other men his age was his obsession with pleasing his mother. The relationship he had with his mom was complicated; Eddie wasn’t even sure how to address it.

It was possible that his attraction to Waylon could be from all the uncertainty that scattered his brain. But it didn’t seem like a good enough excuse, considering the panda doll still in his possession.

What did it _mean?_

As hard as Eddie thought, he couldn’t come up with a good guess as to what had happened that day. He really hated it when his mind started looking into the fine details of life. He had to clear his mind.

So he helped with the post-festivity clean up, moving tables and chairs and booths all the while picking up trash as he went. And despite his struggles against it, Waylon’s smile was the only thing on his mind for the rest of the night.

* * *

It took Eddie less than five minutes to reach the meeting room next to the chapel. One of the other priests had warned him of Waylon’s arrival, stating that he would be there soon. Eddie couldn’t help the smile that blossomed as he entered the room.

There were plenty of pleasant details from the fundraiser still fresh in Eddie’s mind, and he tried his best not to turn wandering thoughts into something else. 

The meeting room door opened, and along with Waylon, Eddie met a pair of blue-green eyes that held of look of total disapproval behind them.

Eddie’s smile faded.

“Eddie, I’d like to introduce you to my best friend, Miles Upshur.” said Waylon, breaking the quick surge of tension as he gestured to the man standing beside him. 

The other man raised a brow as he sized Eddie up, his previous expression still lingering. Eddie could tell Miles Upshur was just as happy to be there as he was.

He had dark brown hair and a face that told Eddie that he was around the same age as Waylon. His hair was a little longer than Waylon's though, neatly combed back with what looked like hair gel. 

Miles’ arms were crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed. Eddie swore that Miles’ posture became that much stiffer as he entered the room with Waylon.

Eddie tried to keep his composure as he spoke, “Well, everyone is welcome inside the church. I’m Father Eddie, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he greeted, extending a hand forward. He tried to look as collected as possible, ultimately failing; he appeared just as rigid as the young man before him.

Miles reached out to meet Eddie’s hand in less than a second, putting on a forced smile as he initiated a single shake. Their displeasure with each other could be seen by anyone; well, anyone but Waylon.

“I already talked a lot about you.”

“I’ve already heard a lot of the stories… Father. About you helping Waylon, his mom and everything,” said Miles, his tone holding an edge of hostility behind it. Releasing Eddie’s hand, Miles brought his arms back over his chest.

Eddie tensed. Was _this_ the surprise Waylon had been talking about…? “Well, I always try my best to support our community members; especially those who ask for it. It’s one of my duties, after all.”

"I assume talking about faith and ‘God loves you’ is the big picture when looking for help at a place like this, right?”

Well _fuck_ if it wasn’t a surprise. Miles’ voice was harsher than the one Father Martin used when questioning him. What the hell did he want?

Eddie’s responding laugh had the same edge to it as he cast his gaze to Waylon, smiling. Miles was definitely much different than Waylon attitude-wise. But still, “I guess you’d be right in a sense, Mr. Upshur. God’s word gives encouragement.”

Miles pursed his lips, “Hm, that’s interesting considering how close you and Waylon have gotten, by the looks of it. Seems like religion has been more of a sideways subject for-”

“Miles,” Waylon sighed with a hint of alarm. It sounded like it wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation.

Maybe Waylon had thought they’d be able to get along. There wasn’t a whole lot that stood in the way of that either, besides Miles’ commentary. Despite how uncomfortable Eddie felt with Miles around, he was far from ready to let it show in front of Waylon. He wasn’t about to give Miles the satisfaction, either.

“I’ve kept my reservations over the subject to allow Waylon to be as comfortable as possible,” said Eddie, nodding to Waylon. “I’m always willing to offer support and answer any questions surrounding his faith.”

“A Father that decides to avoid the topic of religion. Who knew? Seems pretty sketchy to me.”

“Maybe if you had more closeness to the church, you would be able to understand the circumstances. There’s a lot we do here; we’re not as boring as we seem.” Eddie snapped, forcing himself to maintain eye-contact with Miles.

Eddie didn’t want to sound evil; really, he didn’t. In fact he’d been trying to avoid it, especially after seeing the worried face Waylon continued to make. He seemed distressed, keeping his eyes to the floor as the silence continued.

Miles took notice; he let out a long sigh, scratching the back of his neck, “You’re right. I’m _not_ familiar with all the religious stuff you guys do. It’s not something I’m interested in. And no offense, but it doesn’t seem like a real solution to people’s problems.”

“It’s your right to feel that way Mr. Upshur, but others have the right to seek spiritual help if they wish. Freedom of belief is something I truly value, as long as it’s not being forced on others.

“I could tell you all of the advantages that the word of God could offer you, but I won’t, especially to someone at your age. I believe that younger people should approach the church freely, and of your own will.” Eddie finished, sighing defeatedly. He’d tried to make his words sound more sincere than they had before.

Miles almost seemed like he wanted to agree with him, but Eddie knew fully well that there was still a side of the man that had doubts about Waylon coming to see the priest. It was as if Miles could see his hidden feelings for Waylon lurking in the back of his mind… Eddie just hoped that wasn’t the case.

Waylon certainly looked relieved. How important was it to him that they got along? Eddie wasn’t sure how often he’d be seeing Miles now; whether Waylon would begin to bring him more often. It hadn’t been a part of the original plan, but Eddie was willing to tolerate it if it meant he could continue to see Waylon.

Eddie felt himself growing soft. Some of the things Miles was doing were things he would’ve _never_ tolerated before. It was unbelievable that his attraction to Waylon had gone so far that he would begin to stand Miles’ behavior; but just seeing the smile back on Waylon’s face was enough for him.

* * *

Eddie was drowning in work.

It was a shock. There was a huge stack of papers sitting on his desk, and despite the fact that the office work was normally done by the Ministry, Eddie had used to generate detailed reviews of expenses and any maintenance that had to be done.

It was a boring job, but Eddie preferred it significantly more than the work the other priests did. Organizing and supervising retreats definitely wasn’t his forte. What could he say? He was an anti-social shut-in.

Eddie was always grateful for the weekends when the other staff would leave. The tranquility inside the church during those periods was definitely something Eddie enjoyed. He was free to walk the corridors quietly, totally alone.

The only time that people showed up was for mass, or to talk to any of the remaining priests. Most of the staff that went were usually newcomers, or people in training. Both Eddie and Martin preferred to stay by the church, but for two completely different reasons.

Eddie had been so intent on calculating expenses that he barely heard the knocking on his door. His head turned towards the wooden frame, eyebrows raising as he took off his thin pair of glasses.

If it had been Father Martin, he would’ve just opened the door without hesitation or care for what Eddie was doing. It couldn’t be Sister Sophia, either; she usually announced herself after knocking.

Slowly, Eddie approached the door. He turned the handle, more than surprised to find that it was Waylon standing on the other side. Waylon _never_ came by surprise; he would always tell him when he was going to visit, so the sudden appearance was a little alarming.

Waylon was shaking where he stood, cheeks red and tear-stained. His eyes were dull and wet; had he been crying?

Eddie's first thought was to hug him, but he held back in favor of waiting for an explanation. Soon enough Waylon's eyes looked up from the floor, and he took the few steps it did to enter Eddie’s makeshift office.

“Waylon?” Eddie asked, closing the door. “Are you alright?”

Waylon choked, rubbing his eyes “They told me you were here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t let you know I was coming…”

Eddie was quick to lead Waylon to a nearby couch, having him sit down. The smaller man continued to tremble even as he planted his hands on his knees, closing his eyes. When his eyes opened back up, Waylon seemed lost, distant, eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

Eddie frowned, joining him on the sofa. "What happened, Waylon?”

"It's my mother," Waylon shuddered, wide eyes turning to Eddie.

Waylon looked like he was trying to avoid crying, despite how difficult it was. Eddie clenched his fists by his side, trying not to touch the younger man with all his might. He had never looked as vulnerable as he did now.

Waylon heaved, covering his eyes, "We had an argument this morning; it got really, _really_ bad. She’s afraid of me leaving her all alone. I told you I felt the responsibility to take care of her, but now she doesn’t even want me to leave the _house._ I thought she was past all of this.”

“That’s way too much to ask of you,” said Eddie, placing his hand as gently as he could on Waylon’s shoulder. Waylon sighed into the touch, trying his best to give Eddie a small smile despite his growing sadness.

A short breath whisped through Waylon’s lips as he continued, “I'm the only one she has, Eddie. I'm the only one left. I feel selfish for wanting to leave; I want to go out, do things that other people are doing…”

“It’s not selfish, Waylon. You're very young; it’s not healthy to have a life this stressful.” Eddie sighed, rubbing his thumb against the blonde’s shoulder. 

Waylon sniffed as Eddie’s words processed. He didn’t seem uncomfortable, or nervous; that was good, at least.

The blonde met his eyes once more, "You really are one of the strangest priests I've ever met.” he laughed, wiping his nose. “You’re an interesting man, Eddie.”

“I hope you don’t mean that in a negative way.”

"I don’t. It’s the opposite. You’re just… Fascinating.”

Slowly, Waylon allowed his head to rest on Eddie’s shoulder, eyes closing. He stretched his arms out, wrapping himself around Eddie’s muscular form.

Eddie really wasn’t sure what he should be doing, still in shock that Waylon was hugging him again. Eventually he decided to reciprocate the embrace, patting the blonde’s back for good measure.

Waylon’s hair smelled fruity and sweet, and Eddie had a brief thought of how the strands would feel under his fingers. He pushed the thought aside quickly, focusing instead on how he now felt Waylon’s breath ghosting over his neck, sending a chill down the older man’s spine.

Eddie could feel Waylon squeezing his arms around his cassock lightly, gently. Waylon sighed contently before lifting his head off of Eddie’s shoulder, eyes meeting his. Their faces were close; _too_ close. Eddie swallowed heavily.

“You really are fascinating, Eddie...” Waylon mumbled, moving closer and closer until his lips were over Eddie’s and they were _kissing._

Eddie’s eyes widened as Waylon’s lips moved against his own, hands trailing down the older man’s shoulders. He hesitated to touch Waylon’s body, hands gripping in more of a futile attempt to push him away than anything else.

Waylon's lips were so, so soft against his own. His eyes were closed tight, a small sound escaping him as they continued to kiss.

Eddie felt so fucking good yet so, so bad at the same time. But the most curious thing to him was the way he responded to the kiss only a few seconds later.


	6. Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie gives in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, I really liked reading and translating this chapter. It's definitely a fun one ;)
> 
> **thelovearesick:** Well, here's another chapter. I hope you are enjoying this story and I thank you all for your support and acceptance on this topic. It is very important for me to know if they like the rhythm of the story, maybe there things to improve, I hope to change those details over time. Without further ado, here's the chapter and total thanks to Peachy!

If Eddie could define his actions using a single word, it would be ‘despair’.

The movement of his hands were completely on par with their gasps, his mind having already relinquished control. Waylon's hands fastened to his black cassock in a vice-like grip, lips making their best attempt to deepen the kiss.

Eddie swiped his tongue against the seam of Waylon’s lips, and was soon enough allowed access to the inside of the younger man’s mouth. Waylon had seemed so sure, yet his body language told Eddie he wasn’t sure what he should be doing.

So he did what he had to; he pulled Waylon’s hips closer, holding them tighter. Their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, and Eddie grinned through the small sigh that escaped Waylon’s lips.

Waylon’s brows furrowed as if he was thinking something over before his hands tightened against Eddie’s chest, lips twitching. Slowly, he pulled away.

Waylon stared at him with a nervousness Eddie couldn’t even begin to comprehend. It seemed like in that moment, he was deciding whether to continue or run. Of course, Waylon had been the one to initiate the kiss, but Eddie had been the one to reciprocate it so eagerly.

Eddie's conscience had fled as soon as Waylon’s lips had touched his own. He could still feel Waylon’s trembling frame under his fingertips, and it just made Eddie want to continue all the more.

Waylon seemed like he was about to say something, but it was turned into a small squeak of surprise once Eddie leaned down to ravish Waylon’s lips once more. A deep, throaty noise tore its way from the priest’s throat as he tugged at Waylon’s shirt.

He had _never_ felt this way in the past; not even when he’d given his best, pathetic attempt to appear attracted to the opposite sex back in high school. 

And Eddie _really_ wanted to stop, but all his body told him was that he had a need to satisfy. Waylon's hands tried pushing him away, but Eddie's strength against his upper arms was something too great to overpower.

Instead, a loud moan bounced against the walls as they continued. Waylon’s eyes widened, flickering to watch Eddie and the dark expression he made as they pressed closer, closer. Eddie watched him, too; he could see both doubt and fear in the depths of Waylon’s pupils.

Waylon’s lower lip trembled, breath coming out short and ragged. His hands pressed deeper and deeper into Eddie’s cassock, trying with all his might to pull away and suddenly the older man realized what he was doing to him.

Eddie drew back instantly, removing his hands from the younger man in one fluid motion. They both took a moment to regain themselves; Waylon adjusted both the sleeves and the hem of his shirt, a warm blush spread across his cheeks.

An awkward silence was quick to fill the air around them. The more their breathing calmed, the quieter it got, and the more tension there was to replace it. It just made the guilt pooling in the pit of Eddie’s stomach worse and worse.

Suddenly, Waylon jumped back off of the couch, eyes wide, "I have to go..." the blonde squeaked, his voice holding an edge of fear that wasn’t there before.

His discomfort could be seen for miles, and the tension in the atmosphere only became denser at that. Eddie knew he had to do something, and quick.

"I'm so sorry, Waylon," Eddie tried, reaching a hand forward before choosing instead to card it through his own black hair. He knew damn well that Waylon definitely didn’t want to be touched anymore.

Waylon's gaze had yet to rise in his direction. Finally Eddie reached out as slowly as he could, brows furrowing at the dim look behind Waylon’s eyes. Waylon's quick retreat into a stand was all Eddie needed in order to determine just how bad the situation had become.

"I really have to go now..." Waylon repeated as he moved towards the door, not even sparing a glance over his shoulder as he slammed it shut behind him. Eddie cringed, closing his eyes before rising to a stand.

Why did he have to get so out of _control_ like that? Eddie hadn’t meant to scare the younger man; he’d had good intentions. He’d really just wanted be there for Waylon and help him through the hard times he was drowning in, trying for once in his life to do something right for someone else.

He’d had a romantic interest in Waylon, _yes,_ but he really tried not to let himself get too carried away with his own emotions.

Waylon’s face had been coated in a type of fear Eddie had never seen from him before. Eddie covered his face with his hands, feeling both anger and frustration coursing through his veins.

He hadn’t meant to go that far. In the past, Eddie had only had a handful of sexual encounters with others; women. But the feeling of someone that close to him, naked, had been less than pleasant. Eddie had felt disgusted when he realized he had to return the women’s touches and kisses. He hated the sounds they made, the vulgar comments they spoke over sexual acts.

There was one incident that he’d always remember; the one he hated the most. He remembered the woman’s cheap perfume inside of a cramped hotel room, flooding his senses, nauseating him.

The room had been disgusting, to say the least. Sitting on the cheap mattress had been tough, considering how dingy and unsanitary everything _looked,_ even more so _felt._

There was a worn-out fan on the ceiling that left the most annoying ring in his ears during his stay, the blades moving unevenly. Eddie had been lying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as a woman’s hands and lips traveled the large expanse of his body.

Eddie remained as still as a board, stomach rigid. His eyes flickered down just as dark brown hair fell against his face, hiding the looks they gave each other through a cascade of curls.

The woman laughed, “What is it, hon? You look so tense…” she laughed again, and Eddie would give anything to not have to hear that annoying, shrill voice that only increased his insanity when she tried to sound seductive. 

Everything about her was fake. Her hair extensions, her eyes; he could tell she was wearing contact lenses that made the color green.

_‘Nothing like pretending to be someone you’re not,’_ Eddie thought, letting a tired sigh free from his lips as the woman leaned back, sitting on his lap. _‘I should’ve expected that from a prostitute, after all.’_

It’d been a stupid idea from the start. Hiring a prostitute just to figure out his own sexuality had been pretty idiotic, but Eddie just had to try. The answer seemed pretty clear now, based upon the simple fact that he hadn’t found a single ounce of arousement since they stepped into the room.

The only other times he’d gotten sexual with women were with ones he’d gone on a few dates with. He’d tried to be charming himself, despite looking to them with nothing more that complete and utter disgust.

Their smiles hadn’t been real, that much he was sure of. It was almost like _no one_ wanted to be with him. Even the prostitute, and he’d _paid_ for her services. The kisses and breath trailing over his face now was _disgusting._

She continued to trail her hands over his skin, fingers curling against his abdomen. Eddie tried his best not to let her see that he wasn’t getting anywhere below the waist, but her hands pressing firmly against his member was all she had to do to set him off.

Eddie's gaze darkened while she only smirked, “What do I have to do to get our little friend here to wake up...?” the woman asked lowly, slipping a hand underneath his pants before fingering along the line on his boxer briefs.

Eddie's eyes darted in every direction the woman’s hands traveled, just noticing that his pants had been removed. The woman smiled again, moving her hips against his lower abdomen in slow, timed movements.

Her hands didn’t stop until she was stroking his member, deft fingers more or less massaging further down until she had a hold of nearly _everything._ She started moving faster with more passion, as if riding him dry.

All she was doing for Eddie was making him more and more uncomfortable by the second, her hips shifting and sliding erratically. The woman's hands suddenly felt stiffer, older, her voice deepening and turning serious; hostile. Eddie's eyes flew open and suddenly, he wasn’t in the hotel room anymore. Well- not exactly.

His father's voice was the one talking down to him now. All he could do was remember, remember the taunts, the humiliation, the beatings. Suddenly Eddie’s mind blanked, and disgust formed into terror in less than a second.

The neon light outside the room’s window, the only light source available, suddenly started to narrow and shrink. Eddie felt a line of sweat trail down from his forehead to his chin while the woman continued without care, completely unaware of the panic attack destroying the man beneath her.

Eddie didn’t want this. _He wanted it to stop._

_“Stop!”_ Eddie shouted, throwing a fist directly into the woman’s face. She fell off the bed and to the floor instantly, and Eddie used it as his chance to spring up, grabbing his discarded clothes. The woman crawled away from him as soon as she saw his approach, and he almost felt bad after seeing the trail of blood leaking down from her nose.

The night had ended just like that, leaving another mark on Eddie’s life and only adding to his sexual frustration. He was never sure why the woman hadn’t done something stupid like call the police, but soon enough they both exited the room, walking in the opposite direction from one another.

After that night, Eddie had thought the answer to his problems had been obvious: He couldn’t have a relationship with _anyone._ He couldn’t afford romance. No one had ever shown any interest in him, and soon Eddie began to believe there was a reason for that.

Before long Eddie had managed to forget about it entirely, arriving at the gates of the church in search of answers, relief. Life didn’t sound so bad if it was completely dedicated to spreading the word of God, but he’d found out the hard way that just wasn't true.

But things had changed since Waylon Park showed up. Eddie had never felt so sure about something before in his life, especially something like his sexual desire.

But Waylon was gone, and he wouldn’t be coming back.

He always ruined everything good, after all. Something things just never changed.

* * *

Eddie had no idea when he’d last seen Waylon Park.

The days had seemed so distant since then, and Eddie tried his best to just try to forget that Waylon had ever come to him. Now, it felt like he was just existing, and nothing more.

The other members of the community had noticed that he was back to his old self again. Within the short time Waylon had been in his life, Eddie had actually participated inside of the church and had grown to accept several things that he never would have in the past. His smiles had been sincere, and he’d been acting kind towards others.

But it all vanished once Waylon left.

Eddie was on another leisurely walk through the temple, thinking. His eyes traveled to the front door across the room, hoping that Waylon would suddenly walk through and into his arms. He wanted to see his beautiful face again.

Eddie was fully aware of the look of disappointment he was giving the door, but it was hard to pretend to be happy, especially now. The other priests began keeping their distance again, some even sending him looks of sympathy as they passed by.

Of course, not everyone in the church went back to being afraid of Eddie. For example, Father Martin hadn’t.

"Is everything alright, Father Gluskin?" Father Martin asked. His voice was the last thing Eddie wanted to hear.

His eyes moved away from the door in order to meet Father Martin’s. His eyes narrowed, and he flashed a small smile that lasted for only half a second before he stiffened, “Everything’s fine, Father Martin. What could _possibly_ be wrong with a day like this?” he asked sharply.

Father Martin coughed, but still, his eye-contact remained. Why wouldn’t he just leave him alone…?!

“Mr. Park hasn’t come back yet, has he?”

Oh god, that was the _last_ thing Eddie wanted to hear. He turned his gaze away, taking a deep breath all the while trying not to punch Father Martin’s lights out. "No, he hasn’t. Obviously.”

“Did something happen?”

Eddie paused, blinking. Of course something happened; something serious had happened, but that was something Eddie would _never_ tell Father Martin about.

Father Martin could probably tell what he was thinking, but Eddie didn’t care. He finally turned back to the old priest, huffing, “He told me he wasn’t sure if he wanted to continue seeing me anymore. He was having more problems at home and just wanted to think things over. I guess he decided to stay home after all.”

Sometimes Eddie impressed himself with his ability to lie. Father Martin bit into it too, a small frown sneaking its way into his normally cheerful look. “Well, hopefully we _will_ see him again. He was a very shy young man, but enthusiastic to learn. Maybe, in time, he’ll come back.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Eddie grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. Before Father Martin had the chance to continue Eddie strolled away, trying not to spare a second glance at the empty doorway.

He decided he was just going to go back to his makeshift office and whine his misery away quietly. There wouldn’t be anyone to judge or prod him with questions there.

The more Eddie thought back onto his last day with Waylon, the more he regretted the way he’d acted. He understood why Waylon reacted the way he did; why he’d looked utterly petrified when trying to leave.

The reality was that Waylon had sought him out that day, not Eddie. And _Waylon_ had been the one to initiate the kiss.

Oh, but he couldn’t blame Waylon entirely. He’d just been too vulnerable, and probably did the first thing that came to mind. It was Eddie who overreacted and took advantage of the already shaky situation.

Eddie just hadn’t been able to resist the body that’d been presented to him. Being back in the same office where everything had gone down didn’t help to ease Eddie’s conscience, either. He took a seat on the sofa, resting his face in his hands.

He had never felt such guilt before in his life. The violence and brutality of the women in his past wouldn’t even make him blink, but a single insult thrown at Waylon Park would keep him awake for days.

The fear in his eyes when he’d been leaving was the one detail Eddie remembered vividly. He’d looked terrified, and Eddie couldn’t tell if it had been from shock or if it was from pure disgust and hatred. Eddie felt himself panicking; the last thing he wanted was for Waylon to be _disgusted_ with him.

Suddenly, the office door flew open. Eddie looked up thinking that Father Martin had come back to lecture him, but his eyes widened once he realized that wasn’t who had come to see him.

Eddie jolted up from the sofa as Waylon Park walked in, closing and locking the door behind him. The young man’s eyes flickered over Eddie’s body, his legs locking, unmoving.

Soon enough Waylon took a few cautious steps forward, and Eddie was careful to make sure he didn’t frighten the man again by moving from where he stood. Eddie continued to say and do nothing as Waylon approached, a little over a foot away from him now.

What the hell was he supposed to say?

Eddie continued to remain as rigid as ever. Waylon stood the same, his head tilted so that he didn’t have to look into Eddie’s eyes. The room fell silent, nothing but the two men’s breathing filling the empty air.

There were so many things Eddie could think to say, but the words just wouldn’t form coherently in his mind. Finally, guilt won over, “I’m so _sorry,_ Waylon,” he began, voice much lower than earlier. 

Waylon’s gaze shifted at that, bright brown eyes meeting shocking blue. Eddie still didn’t want to move; he didn’t even want to _breathe._ It felt like even the slightest movement would scare Waylon away.

“...What are you doing?” Waylon asked doubtfully, his lips turned down in a pout. His brows were furrowed, silently telling Eddie that he was asking a serious question.

Eddie’s hands curled into fists as Waylon took a few more steps forward, their eyes still locked. To his surprise, Waylon reached up, wrapping his arms around broad shoulders before bringing their faces closer together. Eddie brought his own hands up to Waylon’s waist, unsure of what Waylon was doing. 

The blonde looked almost sad as he sighed, “What do you want, Eddie?” he asked weakly.

Eddie’s eyes flickered from Waylon’s lips to his eyes, breath ragged, "I ... I want… You." he murmured quietly, and just like that he shot forward, capturing Waylon’s lips with his own.

Now it was Eddie who took the first step. He kept his hands light on the other’s waist in case he wanted to pull back, walk away. But to his surprise, Waylon _melted_ under his touch.

Waylon’s lips parted slowly, allowing Eddie’s tongue to meet his own. Eddie’s hands gripped the younger man’s waist, pulling their bodies flush together. Eddie kept his eyelids drooped, watching every face and movement Waylon made.

Waylon actually seemed quite willing to respond to his touch, hands trailing against the shoulders of his cassock before dipping lower. His fingers graced over Eddie’s pectoral muscles for less than a second before he moved his hands back up, stroking his chest. 

 

The blonde’s hands were gentle and warm as they traveled; he seemed a bit hesitant, but still, his hands continued to roam. 

Eddie managed to guide them to the sofa in no time, allowing Waylon to lie down first. Eddie settled against him once he seemed comfortable enough, and Waylon actually smiled as their lips parted.

Eddie couldn’t believe the enticing display before him, dragging Waylon’s hips closer. The older man traced his finger over Waylon’s abdomen under his shirt, the smaller man bringing their lips back together.

Eddie’s hands explored and wandered the soft skin beneath Waylon’s clothes, fingertips tracing his stomach and waistline. There wasn’t a single part of Waylon he wanted to leave unexplored. 

Finally, there was a dawning realization in the back of Eddie’s mind as to why he had never felt pleasure in situations like these before, despite how long it took. He really was attracted to people of the same sex. 

Eddie panted, placing both hands on the sides of Waylon’s head, “Are you sure about this, Waylon?” he asked, hands already moving, tugging Waylon’s shirt up to his chest.

He needed to see Waylon, to map out every detail of his body. He wanted to turn off that part of his brain that told him that this was a very, _very_ bad idea and just lose himself in the pale skin beneath him.

Waylon took a long time to answer, "No," he whispered, bring a hand up to palm Eddie’s cheek. It was the truth. “...No…” he repeated again, pulling Eddie down into another needy kiss. 

It was almost as it both of their minds were trying to get them to stop, but their bodies acted of their own accord. If Eddie was being completely honest with himself, he didn’t feel too sure about what he was doing. _What the hell was he doing?_

Eddie felt himself breaking all of the walls he’d built around himself, desire dominating over everything else. He felt his life as a priest at stake; but then again, he’d felt that way for a long time.

Maybe Waylon was the answer to all of his doubts. He really hoped it wasn’t too late to clean everything up and make amends, even though nothing would ever be as perfect as he would’ve liked.

Eddie wasn’t sure when it happened, but their hands had gone into action, ridding one another of their clothes. Both Waylon’s pants and underwear had been dragged down to his knees, shirt wrinkled and resting against his upper chest. Eddie took the opportunity to run his hands along Waylon’s stomach, causing a ticklish sprout of laughter to erupt from the younger man.

Eddie moved further down Waylon’s body, placing gentle kisses against his inner thighs. He made quick work of flicking his tongue over the blonde’s semi-erect member, grinning through Waylon’s moan as he nipped at his stomach.

Eddie trailed his eyes up to watch Waylon’s gasps and moans, loving the way the blonde’s eyes widened, lips parted and a blush spread over his cheeks.

“Would you like me to continue, darling?” Eddie asked lowly, tracing his lips against Waylon’s neck. He grabbed hold of the back of Waylon’s thigh, bringing the smaller man’s leg up to Eddie’s hip.

Waylon didn’t respond. He simply yanked Eddie down into a ravenous kiss, nodding his head once as his legs wrapped themselves around Eddie’s thick frame. The older man smirked, pressing two fingers into Waylon’s parted lips.

Eddie brought his hand back down to Waylon’s now-straining erection, stroking him with quick, deft fingers. He wanted to hear the younger man moan, cry out in pleasure, watch him writhe. He felt like an addict getting his daily dose.

They were treading into very dangerous terrain, but Eddie couldn’t bring himself to do anything to stop it. He pulled his wet fingers out of Waylon’s mouth, bringing them down to trail the circle of Waylon’s entrance.

The small groan and immense pressure on Eddie’s index finger as he began pressing inwards told him that Waylon had never had any experience with this kind of thing. Eddie wasn’t sure whether to feel glad or alarmed.

“Are you okay, Waylon?” Eddie breathed, working his finger as far in as it would go, “Does it hurt?” he asked, voice laced with concern.

Waylon's face was hidden behind an arm draped over his face, but Eddie could still see the intense red blush behind it prominent as ever, "Yeah, I-” A gasp. “I just have to get used to it." 

And sure enough, Eddie could feel Waylon begin to relax against his fingers as he slipped a second digit in, earning another long, drawn-out moan from the man beneath him.

Eddie could tell Waylon was ready, fingers sliding in and out with relative ease. The small kiss placed against his chin along with the lustful look Waylon gave him was another indicator in itself.

Waylon’s head fell back onto the sofa, eyelids lowered. Eddie could _feel_ him watching as he stood from the couch, unbuckling his belt and lowering his pants to reveal his own carefully hidden erection.

The blonde’s eyes widened as he watched Eddie’s member sprung to life. The length of his cock itself made Waylon gulp, realizing it would be inside of him in mere moments.

Eddie took notice to Waylon’s reaction immediately, bringing a hand to caress the blonde’s thigh as he climbed back onto the couch. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss to the top of Waylon’s forehead as he settled between his legs.

“If you tell me to stop now, I will. I would never want to do anything to hurt you," Eddie whispered into Waylon’s ear. It was true; with the position they were in now, Waylon’s word was law. No matter how excited Eddie got, he cared about Waylon’s well-being far more than his own pleasure.

Waylon made quick work of dragging Eddie closer with the legs that had once again wrapped themselves around him. Just as he dragged their hips together, Eddie’s cock positioned itself and finally, _finally_ he felt himself pressing inside of the younger man.

Waylon's cringed, fingers gripping Eddie’s shoulders tightly as the man finally sunk to the hilt. Eddie was careful not to move, trying hard to calm himself enough not to just fuck Waylon straight into the couch. Just the heat Waylon’s body gave off while wrapped around him felt like heaven.

Eddie felt like a barbarian; or at least like someone unworthy of experiencing a moment as precious as this. Waylon had let him be his first. In a way, Eddie almost felt like it was his first, too; having sex with the _right_ person.

It was filthy; they were only one room and a few steps away from the main temple, and here he was having sex with another man.

Things would always be strange like that. He felt Waylon beginning to relax, the blonde's breathing less ragged. Eddie fixed his hands over Waylon’s hips, pulling himself to a near-exit before snapping his hips forward, testing the waters. The following sound Waylon made was something Eddie wanted to remember forever.

Eddie felt a certain heat warm him to his core as he started a slow and rhythmic pace, unable to stop himself from praising Waylon’s reactions with his hands and lips. He moved his nose to Waylon’s neck, breathing in the scent of love and sweat and sex as he felt himself sliding much easier over Waylon’s body.

Waylon trembled under his touch, the sounds and moans escaping his lips growing higher and higher in octave. Eddie had to stifle some of the noises he made; Waylon let out a short scream of pleasure that was swallowed by Eddie’s mouth over his.

The blonde’s hands were grasping tightly against his back, bodies melding together as Eddie picked up the pace. The old sofa creaked noisily beneath them through their antics, but Eddie couldn’t bring himself to care if the old thing broke. He had more important things to focus on.

Eddie reached down to grasp Waylon’s own neglected erection as his thrusts became almost brutal, pumping into him deeper, trying to find that sweet spot that would have the blonde squirming. 

Waylon arched his back, letting out a high-pitched moan through one calculated thrust of his hips. Eddie positioned himself to hit that same spot again and again, hand working Waylon’s erection hard and fast.

Eddie drank in the sight before him, "So beautiful for me, darling,” he groaned out, leaning over Waylon’s body, completely at his mercy. “You’re so _beautiful…”_

Waylon’s breath hitched beneath him, and suddenly the noises he made became much more shrill. He was close to orgasm, and Eddie could feel himself inching closer to that edge, too. The move and slide of their bodies accelerated, increased in desperation. The rhythm was out of control again, and Eddie almost felt like a predator, Waylon the prey as his hands held onto the blonde’s hips so tight he was almost sure it would bruise.

It made him feel like a horrible, disgusting man who’d been guided by primal instinct rather than thought. Almost like he’d just jumped right in seeking satisfaction and nothing more.

Waylon let out another throaty groan, hips lifting to meet Eddie’s and soon enough it was just what he needed to send them both over the edge. Waylon’s seed shot into his hand, covering and staining both of their chests. Eddie could feel his own release inside of Waylon, and the younger man probably felt it, too.

The blonde’s eyes were closed as he placed a hand against his forehead, panting in time with Eddie’s own erratic breathing. Eddie could feel a few lines of sweat dripping down his face, but Waylon’s hands over his chest was the only thing he really took notice of.

His suit had been wrinkled and mussed during their coupling, the neatness of his complexion forgotten and stained by both of their bodily fluids. 

Eddie had just made a grave fault in each of the promises he made to himself. He leaned down, placing another softer, loving kiss to Waylon’s lips. It was all he could do to ease his conscience.

Eddie had no idea what was supposed to happen from there. 

But the one thing he was absolutely sure about was that he had a secure place in _hell._


	7. Hungry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Been a while, definitely.
> 
> **thelovearesick:** A new chapter has arrived and I couldn't be happier with this. Thanks to Peachy for this wonderful translation and thank you to the people who read this story. I thank you all!

People began to enter the church. Most were the elderly who choose to sit along the benches in complete silence, gazes turned to the Blessed Sacrament before them.

It was seven o'clock in the morning; the echo of the church bells could be heard faintly throughout the grand room, announcing the hour to the outside world. The first hint of sunlight was beginning to peek through the front entrance, birds chirping just past the doors.

So many elders, joined together with nothing but their faith to carry into the holy temple. Eddie wondered briefly what it was like to have nothing but your religion to live for at that age.

Really, what else could you even _do_ when you grew that old? The thought seemed a bit cruel, but he couldn’t help but think it true based upon their slow, mechanical movements as they clasped their hands together in prayer.

Eddie walked down the hall, glancing over women attempting the kneel in front of the benches. He could tell it took them a lot of effort to do just that one simple task; some chose to simply bow their heads instead, finding it a decent enough position to complete their prayers.

He made his way towards a pillar just outside the chapel, arms crossed over his chest as he observed their followers. He shifted his gaze from the elderly to the walls, glancing over the bright colors cast down from the beautifully painted windows up above. Despite the obvious tranquility, Eddie felt himself grow cold at the sight of all the unrequited faith surrounding him.

Eddie felt strongly when it came to his doubts over religion, but he knew better than to vocalize his feelings. It allowed him to avoid another one of Father Martin's long, not-at-all motivating sermons about how important it was for them to keep and practice their faith, and how they’d soon be rewarded for their efforts.

Even though he was surrounded by more people than he’d like, Eddie surprised himself with how calm he felt overall. Maybe it was from all of the reflection he’d done, maybe it was from the easy stress-reliever he’d had access to. But what mattered now was what he was going to do about it, and the choices he’d have to make over the coming weeks surrounding the whole ordeal.

He’d had sex with Waylon Park just a few days before; that much was clear. But the most astounding thing was how little he cared about what he’d done. How he didn’t regret it; not one bit.

And it was true. Eddie couldn’t seem to bring himself to regret holding Waylon in his arms, for feeling the hot skin of him against his fingertips. He didn’t regret hearing the soft, ragged breaths of the smaller man beneath him, nor did he have any doubts when he’d claimed him in that small office room.

The memory was more than pleasant, but the most surprising thing of all was his willingness to admit it. Before they’d parted ways, both had agreed to have a talk, soon; they really needed to sort things out with one another.

Things had turned out better than Eddie had anticipated after their coupling. Waylon hadn’t rejected him; not even a little. There had been a brief farewell kiss, which had turned into several brief farewell kisses, which then turned into a complete make-out session against the door.

There was a part Eddie that tried to think logically. It told him that having any sort of relationship with Waylon was dangerous for both of them. Sure, one might find find the fact that he was a priest the most alarming detail, but to Eddie, the part that scared him the most was how old he was-- and how old Waylon was.

For the first time in his life, Eddie wished he could just turn off that rational part of his brain and let his feelings of love and lust take the wheel for a while. It felt… liberating, to say the least. 

Eddie felt his lips curl into a gentle smile at the thought. He wasn’t sure what he should be thinking about involving his ‘revelation’ over liking men, but he moved on from the incriminating thoughts that had plagued him before.

Maybe it was just a small thought that’d screamed at him and told him that being with another man was a mortal sin. It had screamed and cried even as he made love to Waylon, as if he were some sort of barbarian desecrating god himself.

The analogy amused him. Somehow, the fact that Waylon was a man of faith as well made it all the more hilarious.

But then, Eddie’s thoughts dragged back to the simple fact that being with the younger man would only lead to trouble. He was aware of all the things that could happen to him, to Waylon, but for some reason, Eddie still couldn’t bring himself to care. At least, for the time being.

Eddie walked into the chapel, the smell of incense and the constant murmuring of hymns beginning to get on his nerves. Despite his good mood, Eddie’s tolerance for people had always been slim to none. The fervent sound of the elderly caused him to wince, wishing they could just worship silently like normal people.

Eddie was quick to notice Father Martin approaching out of the corner of his eye. The smile that fell onto the younger priest’s lips was only somewhat-faked, his previous happiness eating up most of his discomfort.

"Good morning, Father _Eddie."_ said the older man, using his first name instead of his last as he passed Eddie’s side. Eddie noticed the man’s crooked stance, and the way he babbled his words, as if afraid of him.

"Good morning, Father Martin. How are you today?" Eddie replied, voice much livelier than usual. He knew he probably sounded strange; seeing him in a good mood might be more frightening than when he was annoyed, after all.

Father Martin blinked. He wasn’t sure how to respond, or know if the question was actually asked. The other priests and Martin alike had noticed a drastic change in Eddie’s mood over the past few days; a very, _very_ good change. And they were more than curious to know why.

Martin smiled, “I’m feeling very well, thank you for asking. To what do I owe the sudden change in mood?” the older man asked, attempting to place a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

The smile on Eddie's face faded for a brief moment, and he attempted to cover it up with a small cough. His blue eyes remained fixed on Father Martin’s face, trying to focus on anything but the man’s hand on him, “I don’t know. Maybe it's just something in the air-- it _is_ quite sunny out today. ...Are there any activities pending in the parish?”

The surprise over Martin’s face didn’t cease, spurred on by Eddie’s follow-up question. The genuine kindness in his tone was much different from when it was faked. A part of Father Martin was elated; he’d always known Eddie would come around.

“There are, but they’ve already been covered. Any upcoming events will be discussed at our meeting on Thursday, so be sure to keep an eye out,” said Martin, smiling. “I appreciate your enthusiasm today.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for; it’s my profession, after all,” said Eddie, brushing him off. “If you'll excuse me, I have a few things I need to get going on.”

“Of course, Father. Have a good day.”

With a small nod, Eddie retraced his steps out of the chapel and back into the main hall. He picked up the pace as soon as he heard the mumbling again, deciding that he wanted to keep his good mood alive for a little while longer.

Eddie hadn’t lied about having work to do. There were backlogs of overdue checks he needed to take care of, and several bills that were already past their due date. Waylon's surprise arrival the other day had impeded his work and, of course, occupied his mind on much more… _important_ things.

But despite that, Eddie didn’t mind having the extra work. It would be a great way to distract himself until Waylon arrived in the afternoon. Just the thought of seeing the other man again lit a flame deep in Eddie’s chest.

When lunchtime rolled around, none of the staff were surprised to find Eddie sitting at his usual table, secluded from everyone else. Not even his improved mood would make him want to talk to those people; just watching Sister Sofia carelessly dump a scoop of mashed potatoes onto her plate made him cringe with discomfort. 

...There was always something irritating about that woman. 

The two priests sitting opposite to her were no better, either. They carried themselves in a way that sickened Eddie; they thought they were his superiors only because they were a couple years older than him. They always talked so condescendingly, trying to act more mature and all-knowing than they really were.

Eddie had no trouble showing his displeasure with them. He’d always been pretty cynical about everything.

It wasn’t long before Eddie finished eating. There weren’t many people left in the dining hall, thankfully, so he simply washed his dishes in silence, retiring back to his office as soon as he was done.

When Eddie was back in the small, cramped room, he felt himself relax, a small wave of tranquility washing over him. The memory his afternoon with Waylon came back as soon as his eyes landed on the couch across from him, quick to take a seat over it.

He felt a little dirty for thinking so hard, but Eddie couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of what they’d done to each other on that very sofa. He remembered every sensation he’d felt, every expression Waylon had made, and sounds the younger man had sighed while Eddie had been inside of him.

Eddie’s hands tightened against the back of the seat once he realized how _perverted_ his mind had become since that day. Couldn’t he calm down for just _two minutes_ and relax?

He lept off of the sofa almost immediately, making his way back to his desk and taking a seat before he went as far as to check the furniture for the younger man’s scent. His brow twitched as he stared down at the unfinished documents, unsure of where he should start.

The day was still young, so Eddie decided it would be best to just pick a document and get to work. Fortunately, he had always been fairly disciplined with himself, so he was able to get into the rhythm of work within a matter of minutes. At least Father Martin would be pleased by the time he was done.

And boy, did time fly. Eddie hadn’t expected there to be so many issues that needed sorting out, cursing himself halfway through for forgetting his glasses back in his room. He turned his gaze to the clock in the corner, more than surprised to find that it was already three-thirty in the afternoon. Had that much time passed already?

A soft knock echoed throughout the room as if on cue. Eddie didn’t have to see to know who was on the other side of the door; he barely had enough time to shift in his seat before it opened. Waylon greeted him almost immediately, his soft, curly hair accentuating his face perfectly-- like usual.

The blonde’s gaze was lowered, just shy of meeting Eddie’s eyes. That was when Eddie realized he should _probably_ stand. As he did so Waylon closed the door behind him, the sound of the lock securing into place sounding like music to his ears.

Waylon looked pleased as he took the few steps needed to stand in front of Eddie. Eddie reached forward, hands snaking their way around Waylon’s waist. Both his hands and lips had a mind of their own, closing the already small gap between them.

Waylon gasped, arms wrapping themselves around Eddie’s neck. Eddie trailed his hands down Waylon’s back as they kissed, rubbing down his spine.

Waylon already seemed to have trouble keeping up with Eddie’s enthusiasm. The priest knew he should calm down... Oh, but when he felt Waylon’s tongue on his own, there was little he could do to keep himself from completely _devouring_ the younger man. It wasn’t until they both lacked air did they separate.

“I thought we were gonna talk,” Waylon breathed. Eddie noted his blown pupils, parted lips, and trembling frame. Eddie restrained himself from throwing Waylon down onto the couch and having him right then and there in favor of thinking wisely. Waylon was right. They needed to talk.

“You’re right,” said Eddie, just as breathlessly as Waylon.

The priest settled his forehead against Waylon’s, a small smirk finding its way onto his lips as he watched Waylon’s embarrassed expression. Eddie pressed a quick kiss to Waylon’s lips before guiding him to one of the wooden chairs resting in the corner, taking a seat opposite to him almost immediately.

Should they just come clean and admit that they did something wrong? Eddie had hoped to continue their little ‘relationship’ for a bit longer, but reality seemed to close in faster and faster with every passing day.

Waylon’s hands fidgeted in his lap, body as still as a statue. Every now and then he would glance in Eddie’s direction; he was probably waiting for the older man to say something, but Eddie couldn’t find the words.

Eddie already felt so close to Waylon, despite only being truly intimate with him once. And even then, they couldn’t really be considered lovers. Could it be called a spark of romance instead? Eddie had no clue.

The older man cleared his throat, forehead resting in his palm. “I... Well, I want to apologize, first and foremost. I lost control the other day, and I’m fully aware of how wrong it was. I’m supposed to be the responsible one here.”

He released a heavy sigh, “You're young, and I took advantage of that. There’s no way to justify my actions-- I hope you’ll accept my apology,” said Eddie, frowning at the hardwood floor.

Waylon hadn’t moved an inch since Eddie had started speaking. Everything about the blonde man was rigid, and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder if it was because an apology was what he’d wanted all along.

What could Waylon be thinking about at this point? The suspense ate at Eddie more than anything else. He reached forward to take Waylon’s hands in his own, but still, the blonde didn’t move a muscle.

Finally, Waylon intertwined his fingers with Eddie’s, “Is that what you really think about all of this, Eddie?” Waylon asked, voice soft. A small blush crept its way over Waylon’s cheeks as he spoke. The blonde finally tried to maintain eye-contact, the nervousness from before beginning to fade.

Eddie frowned. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

Waylon shook his head, pulling his hands away, “Do you really think that everything that happened was just some big mistake? That it was something we should regret?”

Eddie remained just as confused as ever as the blonde leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair, “I know what we did was risky, and yeah, I definitely acted on-impulse, same as you. But I don’t regret what happened, and I... _liked_ being with you. Did you… not like being with _me…?”_

Eddie was more than surprised at Waylon’s words. How could he answer a question like that? How could he say he loved the sex with Waylon, and that it hadn’t been some shot in the dark to release all of the pent-up tension that’d been building ever since he’d laid eyes on him?

The older man placed his hands on either side of Waylon’s face, thumbs stroking over his cheeks. Blue eyes flickered to watch Waylon’s trembling lip, finally coming to a decision.

Eddie leaned in, placing a long, barely-noticeable kiss to Waylon’s lips before responding, “What do you want me to say, Waylon? I don’t regret a thing. Making love to you was like a revelation for me.”

Eddie stood from his seat, coming to a kneel in front of Waylon’s chair. He placed his hands over the blonde’s thighs, traveling upwards until he had a secure grip over Waylon’s waist. He leaned forward, clashing their lips together in a manner that wasn’t the least bit innocent.

As hard as Eddie tried to contain the sounds coming from Waylon’s throat, he couldn’t help but allow himself to be fueled by them. Eddie knew that there was little chance anyone would hear them in the small room, but nonetheless, he also knew that they should probably take things elsewhere. He placed his hands against Waylon’s shoulders, coming to a stand while breaking the contact between their lips despite the apparent protest.

Eddie grinned at the wide-eyed look Waylon gave him as he helped him up, letting out a soft chuckle at the obvious desperation in the younger man’s eyes. He had to keep reminding himself to hold back; _not yet._

“I think I have an idea, darling,” said Eddie, and soon enough they were out of the cramped office space, walking down the hall. Another minute later, and they were suddenly standing in front of Eddie’s bedroom door.

In that moment, Eddie swore he could hear Waylon’s heart hammering against his ribcage as they entered. Eddie closed the door behind them, fastening the lock as securely as he could.

When he turned back around to face the younger man, Eddie was more than pleased to see a small smile over Waylon’s face as he walked forward, plopping down onto the edge of the queen-sized bed. The small bounce that followed was one of the cutest things he’d seen from Waylon yet; and it was only a matter of seconds before Eddie was standing in front of him, placing his hands over his soft, reddened cheeks.

"I want you to be sure about this,” Eddie began, trailing one of his hands down to Waylon’s jaw, “I want you to be _sure_ that you want to do this. I don’t want to be the reason you have problems in the future, even though I already will be…” Eddie grumbled, voice trailing off.

Suddenly, that feeling of guilt from days before was back at full-force. Waylon’s skin against his felt like he was being burned alive, but at the same time, it was all he wanted to feel.

Waylon leaned up, pressing his lips against Eddie’s chin. He moved himself upwards, kissing the older man’s cheeks, nose; soon enough he sat on his his knees so he could trail his lips over every inch of Eddie’s face.

Eddie closed his eyes, placing his hands over Waylon’s. He allowed himself to be absorbed in the moment as Waylon explored, hands lowering to rub against his chest and over the fabric of Eddie’s cassock.

Once he felt a small tug from Waylon, Eddie allowed himself to be pulled down onto the bed. Waylon was quick to straddle his lap, legs on either side of Eddie’s chest. Eddie opened his eyes once more, watching with curiosity as the younger man began removing his dark clothes, revealing more and more pale skin with every tug.

The memory of the dirty hotel with the prostitute came back to Eddie just then. At the time, he’d _hated_ the feel of another body on his, _exploring_ his. But nothing compared to this moment. _Nothing._ There was nothing unpleasant of the object of his desire touching him, pulling his upper garment over his head to reveal his toned abdomen.

Waylon’s eyes widened as he scanned every inch of Eddie’s exposed body, hands moving from his pelvis to his chest. Eddie shuddered, hands once again resting on Waylon’s hips.

He wanted to allow Waylon to explore, even though Eddie was just as desperate to do the same. Waylon leaned down, leaving a trail of kisses everywhere his hands had previously been. Another sigh escaped Eddie’s lips.

There was a certain need building up inside of Eddie, and he could hardly contain it. He thrusted his hips upwards, surprising Waylon as the young man bounced against his chest. Eddie loved the blush that spread up Waylon’s neck from the action; he was still so cute, so innocent.

“Do you even _know_ how beautiful you are?” Eddie blurted without thinking, raising his hips to Waylon’s again. The blonde let out a small whine, pulling his own shirt over his head before tossing it carelessly to the side. He began removing the rest of his clothes, desperate to feel the hot air building up around them.

Eddie ran his hands up and down Waylon’s hips, admiring the beautiful display of skin before him. He brushed his hands across Waylon’s chest, gracing just over his nipples. A loud moan escaped Waylon’s lips at the action.

Well, it was certainly a reaction. Eddie leaned up, moving his hands back down to Waylon’s waist in favor of enclosing one of the blonde’s nipples in his mouth. 

Waylon's groans grew louder and louder as Eddie swirled his tongue across the sensitive peak, trying to remove the rest of Waylon’s clothes as he worked. The sounds coming from the other man almost reminded Eddie of a feline, and he couldn’t stop licking, sucking, and biting as he grinded against Waylon’s bare crotch.

Eddie loved the feel of Waylon shivering under his touch as he took him in. A thin sheen of sweat coated the blonde’s body as Eddie pulled away, observing the younger man’s frame with a dark, lustful look in his eyes.

He was quick to flip their positions, settling between Waylon’s legs with a satisfied grunt. Waylon's eyes widened, watching with anticipation as Eddie lowered his pants just enough to free his growing erection.

"E-Eddie..." said Waylon, breath hitching. Eddie paused, realizing that he was moving way too fast; _especially_ for the younger Waylon’s safety.

Waylon had never felt as vulnerable as he did now, completely exposed in front of Eddie. The older man trailed a hand along the inside of Waylon’s leg, contemplating his next move.

In one swift motion Eddie threw Waylon’s legs over his shoulders, mouth lining up with his hole. Eddie grinned as he heard Waylon squeak, tongue traveling over the sensitive muscle before him. He cast his eyes up to gauge Waylon’s reactions through his ministrations. 

The blonde had thrown an arm over his face, cheeks burning in embarrassment. The grin over Eddie’s face widened at the sight, almost predator-like as he continued to praise him. He wanted to soak in all of the younger man’s reactions, watch the look on his face shift and contort the higher he traveled with his mouth. There was a burning urge inside of him to please Waylon, and by god was he going to do it.

Waylon continued to keep his face covered, but he couldn’t hide his hardened member begging to be touched. Eddie let out a low growl, tugging Waylon’s arm away from his face. The look Eddie gave him said it all.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, darling. Let me see you.” Eddie commanded, voice low. Waylon nodded, trying to relax underneath him.

Eddie leaned down, gently nipping the skin of Waylon’s chest. he worked his way lower and lower, taking his time over each patch of skin he kissed. There was just something addicting about the way the younger man tasted; _something_ about him that had Eddie wanting more, but he couldn’t exactly describe _what._ All he knew was that he wanted more; and soon.

Waylon’s eyes fluttered shut once Eddie pressed his lips against the tip of his cock, teasing the member. His head fell back against the pillow behind him when Eddie licked him from the base to his tip, and Eddie _loved_ the small squeak that followed.

The older man placed a finger against Waylon’s entrance, pleased to find it already fairly moistened from all of the saliva he’d left from before. Drops of pre-cum leaked from Waylon’s slit as Eddie thrusted a finger inside, swallowing Waylon’s cock.

The loud moan that tore from Waylon’s throat urged Eddie forward, bobbing his head up and down as he continued to finger Waylon’s insides. The blonde’s thighs clenched around both sides of Eddie’s face, worried that he would reach his climax too soon with the amount of attention Eddie was giving him.

Waylon felt so, so soft. That was all Eddie could think of as he pressed another finger in, trying and failing to just scissor him open. He could tell Waylon was holding back, but Eddie already knew that his first orgasm wouldn’t be the only one of the night.

He started sucking harder and faster until a loud cry erupted from the blonde’s throat and the taste of semen filled Eddie’s mouth. He pulled off of him with a soft ‘pop’, spitting over the side of the bed before leaning over Waylon, watching him struggle to regain his breath. Sweat dripped from Waylon’s forehead, eyes squeezed shut through his post-coital haze.

“Eddie…” Waylon's whispered, fists clenching against the sheets as Eddie’s fingers continued to work inside of him. When Eddie pulled the appendages out, Waylon deflated, sighing against the much larger man.

Eddie leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Waylon’s lips. The distressed look over the blonde had Eddie beaming; did Waylon still not understand how incredibly _attractive_ he was?

“Hmm… You taste _wonderful,_ darling…” Eddie murmured against Waylon’s ear, earning another hard blush. He placed his fingers back against Waylon’s hole, just barely pressing in as he arched over him. His own problem was becoming more and more tedious to hold back by the second.

“You’re ready for me… Will you let me in, darling?” Eddie asked, spreading Waylon’s legs further apart.

Waylon didn’t give him a coherent answer, but the immediately softening of his limbs said enough. Eddie lined himself up with Waylon’s entrance, letting out a long exhale through his nose.

Could they be considered a couple after all of this was over? It was a small thought left to linger in Eddie’s mind as he pressed the head of his cock against the Waylon’s ass, holding the back of his legs in an attempt to secure him in place.

The heat between them was intoxicating. Eddie moved his lips to Waylon’s neck, gently licking the skin presented. He wanted Waylon to have a distraction from the initial pain he was going to experience; he didn’t want to hurt him. 

Waylon’s hands tightened against his back, blunt nails dragging down his spine as Eddie pressed even closer, molding their chests to one another. Eddie was more than aware of the light exhale from Waylon’s lips as he spoke, "I think I'm ready..." he whispered. He didn’t need to say any more; Eddie was quick to grant him his wish.

Eddie moved slow, pressing inside of Waylon as carefully as he could. Waylon was still new to all of this, and the last thing he wanted to do was frighten him by letting his own animalistic instinct take control.

Waylon closed his eyes, head lolling back, "Eddie..." he moaned once more, pressing his legs against Eddie’s sides once the older man was fully sheathed inside of him.

Eddie placed his hands against Waylon’s hips, panting heavily as he pushed and pulled, trying to start a steady, pleasurable rhythm of thrusts. Waylon face began to shift from pain to pleasure fast enough, fingers scraping the skin of Eddie’s back.

What Eddie wanted to know was whether he was just attracted to Waylon physically, or if there was something more there. He still wasn’t sure, but having spent all that time with him and learning new things about him… He suddenly wanted to know so much more about the man. He was starting to put Waylon first.

It was a somewhat-similar feeling to the relationship he’d had with his mother; always putting her ahead of him, making sure she was happy before he was. He’d always felt deprived of his freedom in doing so, but with Waylon… he’d never felt so free. So _alive._

Seeing Waylon in front of him now, lost in a tidal wave of pleasure, made Eddie realize that his greatest mistake yet had been pushing away such a gentle creature. Such a loving man. 

Eddie moaned, tilting his head up to watch Waylon as he thrusted harder, deeper. He could already tell he was close to climax, and just hearing the small sounds coming from Waylon sent him almost to the edge. The feelings that enveloped them suddenly became all too much, both of them climaxing together.

They stayed that way for a full minute, breathing heavily while still wrapped up in one another. Eddie knew then; _this_ was what real pleasure with another human being was. He knew Waylon could be the one to change him for the better.

As Eddie pulled out of the younger man, he couldn’t help but smile at the soft, loving look Waylon gave him once he had flopped down beside him. There was only one thing left on his mind as they laid there, tossing an arm over Waylon’s middle. _How long will it be?_


	8. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **thelovearesick:** Again, I thank all people who read and enjoy the story and Peachy for the translation and dedication. I hope you enjoy it! I hope everybody is happy with this :)

Eddie had dressed himself in some of his more informal-wear. It didn’t say much, since a white dress shirt and black slacks were as informal as he got. His waistcoat was discarded as soon as he looked himself in the mirror; should he add a bowtie? Probably not.

His cassock and other clerical garb had been placed in his room for the day. As common as it was for him to wear them, he would never set foot outside with it on.

Eddie preferred to stick to the shadows in public, and pray to god that he wasn’t recognized. The attention was more than unwelcome, and he couldn’t stand to see the faces of those he knew from within the church.

As soon as Eddie was outside he got into his car, driving off towards the center of town. The route he was taking he knew by heart, and would likely never forget. He wasn’t able to go as much as he would like, but he made it a point to go at least once every two weeks when things got busy.

Sometimes he would bring candy. Other times he would bring flowers. Sometimes he would just buy something to make the room a little comfier.

It was the least he could do, really. Eddie thought about what he’d brought last time as he approached a small local flower shop, pulling into the parking lot. He made the trip as fast as possible; a bouquet of daisies and sunflowers.

They had always been her favorites. Hopefully she was lucid enough to remember them.

Eddie walked through the front doors of the center, bouquet in-hand as he approached the small reception desk. The sign over the front read ‘Hospital Claymoore’ over an old, deteriorated sign.

The receptionist greeted him with large smile, like always. Eddie tried his best to return the gesture and hide his growing annoyance with the woman’s over-cheerfulness; she was working at such a drab and morbid place.

Like usual, Eddie filled out the forms handed to him before heading down the short hallway of rooms he was all too familiar with. He tried not to meet the eyes of the others as he pressed forward. He couldn’t stand to see how desperate and weak they’d become.

The hospital did a good job of taking care of their patients, no doubt. But it was a place of both life and death, beginnings and ends. It was a place where people came to die as calmly and painlessly as they could, and Eddie didn’t want to have a front-row seat to watch them leave this world and move onto the next.

He was thankful that the room he was visiting wasn’t very far off from the main entrance. The corridors on all levels of the hospital were fairly narrow, and clinging to the walls to allow rushed doctors to pass by was almost mandatory.

Eddie could hear the mumbling of both patients and doctors in the distance, but he tried to pay it no mind as his eyes locked on the woman standing in front of one of the rooms at the end of the hall, scribbling away on a small notepad in her palm.

The girl looked fairly young; it was possible that she was a practitioner of psychology, or at least worked somewhere within psychological careers. She continued to jot quickly onto her notepad before flicking it shut, eyes moving towards Eddie.

Eddie's breath hitched as he fixed his gaze on the numbers engraved on the door. 418. It was a private room given to care for one very special woman.

And that woman was his mother.

“She’s been very quiet this week,” The girl began, gesturing towards the door, “We’ve been trying to get her to walk around, but she seems more content finger knitting in bed than anything. She asks for you constantly,” she said, moving the notepad between her hands.

One mandatory enforcement of all staff members was to make sure there weren’t any tools or devices around the patients that could be used as weapons, potentially injuring them. There had already been a few cases from their more unstable guests.

“Has the dosage of her medication increased?”

The woman shook her head, “No, it’s the same as before. In fact, our top therapist thinks that we can lower the dosage of her antidepressants. She’s been looking so much better over the last month.”

Eddie nodded. “Good.”

Eddie never liked interacting with any of the nurses, doctors, or receptionists in the building. It wasn’t even the first time he’d had to talk to this young woman, but still, he felt a steadily growing sense of unease at her presence.

The woman pulled a keycard out of her pocket, swiping it across the door before turning the lock mechanism. The door opened silently, and he was gestured inside.

Eddie blinked several times, attempting to get used to the filtered light as fast as possible as he made his way inside. The windows were what he saw first before the rest of the room spanned out in front of him; locked, sealed, and bolted on to prevent injury and/or escape.

The room consisted of nothing but a bed, drawer, desk and chair, but it was more than enough to house the wonderful creations Helena Gluskin created with her own two hands.

Sewing needles, pins, and other dangerous tools were not allowed in the room, but that never seemed to stop his mother from working around the rules. Eddie took in the half-made scarf beside her bed, pleased to see she’d been keeping busy.

The walls were completely barren, save for a few sketches and pictures that’d been pasted up around the headboard of the bed. Overall the room seemed to be in good shape, the blankets tucked neatly under the mattress and not a speck out of place.

It was more than obvious that his mother took much greater pride in keeping her room organized than the orderlies themselves did. She’d always had an obsession with cleanliness and neatness, no matter how small the object, or how big the room.

Eddie knew that if she still had the option to wear the same clothes she used to, she would be dressed in a spectacular pastel dress, hair trimmed and makeup impeccable. The memory of seeing her like that every morning brought a small bubble of warmth to his chest.

Everything had become so strange since then. Now he’d usually see her in sports pants and a light sweater, long hair tied back into a sloppy ponytail that lacked the same femininity it did when she’d been younger.

Of course, nothing would detract from how beautiful a woman she was. Despite the years wearing her down and the different problems that had caused gray hairs to sprout early, her beauty remained the same.

Maybe it was because of his love for his mother, or how much he cared about her health, but for Eddie, the sight of bright sunlight and a warm smile over her face was one of the prettiest sights one could ever hope to see.

Eddie almost forgot about the bouquet in his hands as his mother turned her gaze towards him. The surprise and joy were instant, as was Eddie to drag the desk chair away from the table over over to his mother’s bedside.

The woman quickly cleared her throat behind them, “I’ll leave you alone, then. Remember Mr. Gluskin, visitation time is limited today for movie night. I’ll be at the front desk if you need me.” she said, leaving the door slightly ajar before departing.

As soon as the woman’s footsteps were nothing but a mere echo down the hall, Eddie turned back to his mother. He wasn’t sure what to say; the words seemed to shrivel up in his throat, and he was even more worried that he’d upset her.

Eddie glanced over the streaks of gray and white in her black hair first, eyes lowering once he realized she had reached forward to take his hands in her own. They were as cold as ice; they almost always were.

His mother had always been fond of greeting people with a kiss to each cheek, so Eddie simply sat and accepted it as his mother leaned forward. He returned the gesture with a gentle smile. Anything to please her; he only wanted her to be happy.

Next, Eddie took in the deep pale blue of her eyes.They had the same hair and eye color, but that was where the similarities ended. Any time he looked in the mirror, all Eddie could see was the shape and semblance of his father. Strong shoulders, broad back, powerful facial features and old, worn-out marks to accommodate them. He resented it. It was what he wanted to change the most.

“Edward, is it really you?” She asked first, adjusting herself to accommodate the height difference between them.

Eddie closed his eyes, trying his best smile as he opened them. “Who else could it be, mother? I come to see you every week. Have you had a good day so far…?”

His mother’s eyes didn’t seem to be focusing on him, rather, some random area of space over his shoulder. But she definitely heard him; she moved her hands to her arms, fingers twitching as she ran them up and down. “I’m very cold, Edward.”

"I'll tell the receptionist to turn up the heat in your room.”

The look she gave him was almost whimsical. "Would you do that for me, Edward?"

“There are very few things I wouldn’t do for you, mother.”

Eddie always made sure he had the utmost sincerity in his voice when talking to his mother. He didn’t like seeing her as absent as she was, but it was nothing he could control. Her medication made her as out-of-it as she was, but it was the price to get better, he assumed.

The days where there wasn’t a hint of light in her eyes were the worst of them. After being around for her last bout of hysteria, Eddie had learned to keep his distance and stay away on those days.

Once she fell silent, Eddie took the time to observe the rest of the room. The small bedside table had a small pink cloth draped over it, clearly woven with a level of precision that if Eddie didn’t know better, he’d be convinced she made it with the sewing needles she wasn’t allowed to have.

The things she could create were remarkable, and making such a stunning piece of cloth while cooped up in her room wouldn’t surprise Eddie in the slightest.

Once again, Eddie nearly forgot about the flowers he had brought with him. Feeling the cellophane paper beneath his fingers Eddie sighed, holding the bouquet out for his mother to take.

The look of surprise was back once more as she took the flowers into her hands, bringing them up to her nose, “Oh honey, they’re _beautiful._ How did you know these were my favorites…?”

Eddie had to restrain himself from cringing. "You’ve told me before, mother. I’d only get the very best for you.”

Helena smiled, reaching over to place the flowers into a small plastic vase on the bedside table. Eddie remained silent, watching as she fiddled with the placement and direction of the flowers in their new home. 

Sometimes, it was almost unbelievable to see just how something as small as flowers managed to cheer her up. It made him happy to know he was the cause of her delight.

His mother had always been a fairly melancholic woman. Even before entering the hospital, Eddie had always tried to put a smile on her face as often as he could. But, as hard as he tried, she would always be too busy with work to notice. They’d had to work to survive.

Breaking out of his trance, Eddie was more than surprised by the intense look his mother was giving him. She first scanned his face, then his shoulders, and suddenly Eddie had to look away.

When he tilted his head back, her eyes were as piercing as ever. “...What're you doing?”

Suddenly she snapped back, brows raising. “Oh! I’m sorry, Edward. I was just thinking.”

“About what, mother?” Eddie asked, trying to keep the edge from his voice.

“You just look so much like your father.”

The statement was like a punch to the gut. Eddie’s fists clenched by his sides, but he tried to tell himself that his mother didn’t mean anything by it. It wasn’t supposed to be malicious. Helena Gluskin had always had an unhealthy obsession with Earl Gluskin, after all.

Their house had consisted of nothing but violence. Bruises. Blood over his mother’s face in the morning. _Make it stop…_

No matter how much time passed, Eddie would never be able to understand why she’d chosen to stay with him all of those years. The damage had already become irreparable.

There was something sick about both of them. Survival had become Eddie’s way of coping.

Nonetheless, he knew he had to respond, “Oh... You think so?” Eddie asked, gulping.

“Yes, I do.” She responded, smile faltering. “How has he been? Does he ever ask about me? Its been… Its been so long, I can’t… I can’t…”

His mother's eyes grew sad, almost dark. He hated having to be the one to tell her that her husband was dead day by day. Sometimes Eddie couldn’t help but think her hysteria was from the loss of her husband and not the horrifying mistreatment she’d been put through. 

It was something painful to accept, but Eddie made an effort to try to not blame her for it. He moved forward, pulling her into a gentle hug. She’d comforted him many times when he was younger in a similar fashion; now, he was giving back.

Back then, Eddie had needed to be able to experience that little hint of gentleness in a person. That little bit of good left in the world.

Eddie rubbed his mother’s back, resting his chin on her shoulder. “He asks about you all the time, but he’s been… busy. I'm sure he'll come see you soon, mom. I know he will.”

* * *

Eddie returned to the church in a state of discomfort. Then again, he always felt that way after visiting his mother. All he wanted was to be able to get away and lock himself in his room all day, but like usual, that would be too good to be true.

And, like always, Father Martin approached as soon as he spotted Eddie retreating down the corridor. Eddie groaned, narrowing his eyes as the smaller man trotted towards him.

The worst part was that Father Martin knew how he felt after visits with his mother. He knew the days he went to see her. Just another thing to add to the infinite list of reasons why he hated Father Martin. 

"Father Gluskin,” Martin greeted, trying to regain his breath. “How are things going in the hospital?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, "Better than expected, but I always feel exhausted after leaving that place. To what do I owe the sudden intervention...?” he asked, the exasperation in his voice not lost to the older man.

Father Martin went silent, lips pressed together. Eddie’s irritation grew as the silence persisted, and he was almost tempted to just ignore him and walk away before Martin cleared his throat, gesturing towards the chapel doors with his head.

“Someone’s been waiting for you for quite some time now.” Martin finally replied, shoulders slumping.

Eddie stiffened. Had Waylon come to see him? They hadn’t planned to see each other for another couple days.

Father Martin didn’t bother clarifying as Eddie walked to the chapel doors, brow twitching as he tried to think of who could’ve possibly wanted to visit with him. A small part of him hoped it was just Waylon trying to surprise him; the thought of spending the rest of the day with him was more than delightful.

As soon as the doors opened, Eddie’s eyes immediately scanned for Waylon. His heart was racing. Footsteps approached from behind, and he swiveled on his heels to meet the eyes of the same person he’d met weeks before.

The irritation didn’t wait. The smile Eddie forced himself to put on was shaky and more than fake as he clasped his hands behind his back.

“Bad time?” Miles Upshur asked, brow raised.

“Miles Upshur?”

“Damn, I didn’t expect you to remember my name,” Miles chuckled humorlessly. “How’ve your talks with Waylon been going? He ever mention me?”

“Sometimes,” Eddie scoffed, letting his arms fall to his sides. “Why’re you here?”

Miles rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m just gonna try to keep this as brief of possible so I don’t have to be stuck here longer than I have to. Where’s somewhere I can sit down?”

Eddie tried to restrain himself from backhanding the younger man as he turned around, walking back towards the double doors. “Follow me.”

As Eddie led Miles into one of the less populated areas of the church, he made sure to keep a close eye on him at all times. He didn’t want him touching anything important or breaking anything valuable.

Miles seemed almost amused by the dark backwards glances. He was definitely way more casual with him than Waylon had been, and in more ways than one.

Sitting across from each other on two of the benches, they sat nearly face-to-face. Miles didn’t waste any time getting comfortable, kicking a foot up over his knee before leaning back onto wooden chair beneath him.

Eddie remained as stiff as he could, feeling a greater sense of authority the taller he stood to Miles. It was stupid, but it was all he had at the moment.

"So, what brings you, Miles?" Eddie started, tone flat.

Miles shrugged. "Oh, well, other than the fact that I know what’s been going on between you and Waylon, nothing.”

Despite the sudden pang of panic at the statement, Eddie tried to keep his composure and remain as cool as possible on the outside. He could barely keep the smile on his face anymore, insides boiling.

How could Waylon keep such a prying, obnoxious friend around? Knowing Waylon’s patience and gentle nature, Eddie could clearly see him overlooking the person Miles was entirely.

It made Eddie uncomfortable, to say the least.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Eddie easily denied, tilting his chin up in almost child-like defiance.

“Whelp,” said Miles, leaning over on the bench. “It’s really not that hard to understand, guy. What did it, huh? No, no, I get it, Waylon’s just attractive, is that it? Oh, or maybe it’s the risk of keeping the relationship a secret that excited you the most.”

Eddie sat, completely silent. He knew he wasn’t hiding his growing anger anymore. Miles was lighting the worst kind of fire in him.

A part of Eddie knew that Miles’ statements could only be a trap. A setup to get a rise out of him, or convince him to spill something about his relationship with Waylon.

He doubted Waylon would’ve been so reckless as to spill something to Miles. He would be too nervous, or shut himself in before revealing anything. They hadn’t had a plentiful amount of time to get to know each other inside and out, it was true, but at least Eddie knew _that._

“Why are you so suspicious?” Eddie finally snapped, glaring at the younger man. “Has he said anything like that to you?”

“Waylon’s a little too obvious when he’s into someone,” Miles explained. “Whenever he _looks_ at that person, whenever he _talks_ about that person... Believe me, I’ve noticed it, and considering the way you both looked at each other when I came here the first time there’s really no use in denying it.

“Which reminds me,” Miles drawled on, giving him a skeptical look. “You _still_ haven’t denied it.”

Eddie raised a brow himself. One one end, he was pleased to know that he was creating such reactions in Waylon even when they _weren’t_ around each other. But on the other, it could get them into trouble. A _lot_ of trouble.

Miles was vexatious, intrusive, and meddlesome. There was a certain cynicism to him that was beginning to grate on Eddie’s nerves. Even his posture in the damn _chair_ told him enough about the kind of person Miles was, and that the young man was on top of everything concerning Waylon. 

That was when Eddie realized his terrible mistake. He’d lost as soon as he’d asked if Waylon had said anything about them. Miles had already gotten what he wanted.

Miles' eyes reflected a look of triumph as he crossed his arms over his chest, “You’re too easy, Gluskin. It’s not something I want to get into, but I can’t just sit around when what you’re doing isn’t fair to Waylon.”

“Did you come here just to lecture me?”

“Look man I don’t give a damn about you and your fucked-up sexual shit, but Waylon has been through a _lot_ this year. His mom is sick, his dad died, and now he clings to the first person who lends him a hand, and I learn that person is taking _advantage_ of him?”

Eddie's eyes widened. After the day they had kissed, and Waylon had come back, the guilt had become easier and easier to suppress. For the first time ever he felt full with someone else, actually _enjoying_ Waylon’s presence without any rejection, repulsion or hate.

He’d become so tired of it. Waylon meant far more to him than most people ever would. There was a love and understanding to their relationship that Eddie had never had before.

He wanted to stay in his little bubble of solitude forever. Waylon had been the one person he’d allowed inside of it.

“It was never my intention to harm him.” Eddie croaked out.

Miles shook his head, "Wouldn’t you think it’d be a bit _strange_ to people, seeing a young adult following a priest everywhere he went?" he asked, tossing his arm over the back of the bench. “The figure of authority should be the one slamming the brakes.

“I don’t know you, and I don’t _want_ to know you, but I think it’s time you thought about what you’re doing with my best friend.”

Miles' words seemed unfit for his age. Eddie could _almost_ come to understand why Waylon kept him close, as unbearable as it was to admit. Eddie stared at the floor, brows furrowed.

Sooner or later, he would have to end it. It was dangerous for both of them, and the consequences would be tremendous; significantly more for Waylon than himself.

Eddie wanted to know Waylon. He wanted to be with him. But putting the risk involved as priority was difficult, if not impossible.

Finally, Eddie asked, “Why haven’t you told anyone else about your suspicions, then?”

“Don’t think I’m doing you a favor,” The brunette warned. “I care about Waylon too much to do that to him without knowing for sure. I hope you know I’m going to talk to Waylon about this. And if it doesn’t end, then I’m gonna have to tell other people. Hopefully you won’t force me to do it.”

Eddie sighed. “I didn’t want things to get this far.”

“Well,” Miles shrugged, coming to a stand. “They have.”

Just like that Miles was gone, leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts on the barren bench. The idea of exposing Waylon was frightening. Almost as frightening as the thought of losing all that he’d gained.

Eddie wasn’t sure if Miles had been bluffing about exposing their relationship… If it could even be called that.

Doubt slowly began to drown him. Eddie hated feeling both confused and exposed. Since his father, he had sworn he would never let anyone to take advantage of him again. The idea that Miles was doing it now was absurd, but the nagging voice in the back of his head said otherwise.

He had been wrong in thinking things couldn’t get any worse. He must’ve locked himself in his room for days.


	9. Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **thelovearesick:** Hey, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter :).

Eddie couldn’t stop thinking.

It was his second cigar that day. He’d bought a pack as soon as Miles had left the church; it had been four days since their talk.

The last time he’d smoked had been seven years before. Up until now, he’d been proud of quitting. But ever since his life had been flipped upside down, he felt he’d needed it more than ever.

The more Eddie sat around biting cigars, the angrier he felt. _‘How could I just_ allow _a teenager to manipulate me?’_

Eddie knew that smoking definitely wasn’t the optimal coping mechanism for his sorrows. The worst part was that he _knew_ Miles was right. He’d made Eddie look at what he’d done in a more realistic manner; a manner he still refused to accept.

God, what was he _doing?_ He was involved in a strange, romantic _and_ sexual relationship with a person frighteningly younger than himself. He had lost control of himself, and the person he was. That wasn’t Eddie. It wasn’t _him._

Miles' visit had almost felt like a cold bucket water dumped over his head, awakening him from a dream-- a fantasy. He still couldn’t understand why Waylon had Miles as a friend. The obnoxious teen was a parasite, at best.

It made Eddie wonder; how much did he _really_ know about Waylon Park?

He was shy, introverted and melancholic, probably due to the recent passing of his father. He was smart. Kind.

And, of course, he had to constantly deal with his mother’s psychological problems.

On the worst days Waylon acted nervously, wondering when would the day come where Alma’s fragility would completely absorb him.

Waylon had come to Eddie seeking an outlet while having to deal with his mother. He came despite the fact that he had doubts about his faith, his beliefs, his ideas and his way of _perceiving_ change.

Eddie didn’t think that anything he’d said or done during their first few sessions had been anything close to suggestive or inappropriate. He’d tried to give Waylon perspective, like a counselor might do. He’d tried to be a good figure of authority, and a good teacher.

Oh, how wrong he’d been. He’d spent more time dwelling on his own repressed feelings to notice the signs. Waylon had always sat fairly close to him during their sessions, asking all the personal questions he could think of. It had, inevitably, led to their first time in that cramped office space.

When Waylon kissed him then, he’d started crying. Eddie had understood. He’d wanted to make him feel better, in any way he could.

Now, Eddie wished he’d done something, _anything_ to stop the chain of events leading to that very moment. He’d allowed Waylon the freedom to explore, which he now realized had been _too_ much freedom. 

He’d fucked up, and bad. Now it was too late to fix it without damaging them. Dammit, he was supposed to be the one _containing_ himself!

He’d done so good, too. An abomination, it always _had_ been, but when he saw Waylon for the first time and felt his warm breath against his face, all of the wrong seemed to vanish. Then he’d gone and convinced himself that it was something natural, something _beautiful_ even, all in an attempt to conceal the obvious wrong it was.

Eddie tossed the cigar butt to the ground, reaching to pull another out of the pack he’d carried outside with him. He would have to get more soon. He was running low.

He scoffed, adjusting his sunglasses before feeling around the pocket of his slacks for a lighter. There was a throbbing headache in the back of his skull, a result of sleepless nights, medication, and lots of hard thinking. 

Eddie knew he couldn’t ask Waylon to just accept and go along with everything that was happening between them; it was too heavy a burden to carry. Eddie himself could barely sustain it. He could barely keep himself from thinking about Waylon’s _skin,_ for crying out loud!

Sometimes, Eddie couldn’t find it in him to stop the intrusive thoughts even if he _wanted_ to. They were becoming more and more frequent with every day that passed. It had gotten so bad that there had been times in which he needed to find a way to release the tension building up inside of him, locking himself in the bathroom for what felt like hours.

He’d also started getting lost in his thoughts more than he’d used to, to the point where he was nearly startled upon seeing Sister Sophia approach.

Eddie stood firmly in place, taking a long, deep inhale of the cigar in his hand. He tilted his head in her direction as a show of acknowledgement, but that’d be all she was getting from him.

Sister Sophia paused, blinking. A half-smile curled Eddie's lips as he noticed it, fading once she opened her mouth. “Father Gluskin?”

"What's the matter, Sister Sofia?" Eddie sighed, turning his gaze forward.

“...Are you smoking?”

The stupidity of the question had Eddie’s eyes rolling into the back of his head. He didn’t bother lowering the cigar or taking his sunglasses off; in fact he pushed them up further, taking another long drag of the satisfying smoke.

Sister Sofia seemed stuck in place, posture awkward and expression holding a look of unease. Good; if Sophia was feeling bad, maybe she’d leave him alone for once.

When Eddie lowered the cigar, he frowned, turning back to the younger woman, “No, I’m only looking at it,” he replied sarcastically, “I think it’s a bit _obvious_ what I’m doing, Sister Sophia. Sometimes I’m amazed at how incredibly _diligent_ you are…”

The woman stuttered. “No, I-- w-what I meant was, its been a while since I’ve seen you smoke. I thought you’d quit.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered up, and he tried to convey his anger to her until he realized she couldn’t see his eyes through the dark shade of his glasses. She blushed nonetheless, obviously embarrassed-- Perfect.

Eddie was perfectly aware of the bundle of nerves she was as he continued. “What, are you trying to say something about _me,_ Sister Sophia?”

“N-no!” She stuttered. “It just… surprised me! That's all. I didn’t mean to say anything--”

"That’s not what I heard, Sophia. Tell me, what kind of person do you think I am for smoking? Does it make me less _dignified?_ Less _civilized,_ huh?”

Sister Sophia turned her gaze to the ground, brows lowered. Eddie didn’t need to be a psychic to know that the woman probably wanted to go back to where she came from; well, it was too late for her now.

Eddie tried to hide the smirk in his voice as he demanded, “So?”

“Um-- So?”

“I asked you a question, Sister Sofia. Who am I to smoke, hm?”

Finally, she turned back to him, shoulders slack. "That’s not what I meant, Father. I don’t mind if you smoke or not-- I was only trying to say its been a while since you last did.”

Eddie shrugged, turning back against the wall of the church. “I had a relapse. I got up, and wanted a cigar.”

Sister Sophia still looked as if she wanted to hightail it, but remained perfectly still nonetheless. Eddie didn’t understand her sometimes; she really was a strange girl. If she wanted to leave, and she was more than welcome to, she could leave.

Eddie took another drag before dropping the cigar, crushing what was left of it with the toe of his shoe until it was flat against the sidewalk. Sister Sofia watched him carefully, looking as if she wanted to say something.

Before she could Eddie brushed off his shirt, starting up the front steps. “If you'll excuse me, I have mass and other activities to sort out, all significantly more rewarding than this conversation.”

Sister Sophia stood quietly as Eddie walked away. He was fully aware of how rude he’d been to the woman, but the irritability of the morning had left him feeling nothing but bitterness.

He was almost certain that if he turned around, he would find Sophia exactly as he left her. He couldn’t bring himself to care as he nudged the double doors open, making his way inside.

* * *

They needed to talk. 

Miles’ visit to the church earlier in the week could only affirm that. The conversations they’d had before were nothing compared to what needed to be said; to address the elephant in the room.

For Eddie, talking to Waylon about anything else would’ve been relatively simple. Just sit in an empty room and calmly express his concerns, Waylon’s concerns, and reach a form of stasis like civilized adults.

It was pretty simple, really. Waylon had always been fairly serene despite the nature of their relationship and the almost permanent desire embedded between them both. It was as if Waylon didn’t know the effect of his presence had over Eddie.

If he did, Waylon didn’t seem to be the kind of person to take advantage of it. Or maybe he didn’t understand the great appeal there was just to watching him _walk._

Waylon’s innocence itself drove Eddie mad with desire. He felt sick, but admitting it to himself somehow made things feel a little bit better. Maybe it was just for the fact that every thought and emotion became jumbled when awakened to the great hysteria of his mind.

Of course he had to talk to Waylon, but both his hands and lips were too busy at the moment kissing and caressing the younger man. He relished in the feel of Waylon’s hands running up and down his back, attempting to pull his cassock apart.

Eddie caught Waylon’s eyes as they kissed, narrowing in on his expression. Waylon looked as cute as always, blushing madly as his lips moved gently with the kiss. That of someone inexperienced, definitely.

He really wasn’t sure when they’d started kissing. They had both sat in the small living room like they always did when starting a session; Waylon had filled him in, and they’d got to talking.

But of course, things had gotten out of hand and before either realized it, he was pressed up against Waylon, feeling his warmth as he wrapped himself around him.

Finally, they parted, breathless. There was a certain spark in Waylon’s eyes as one of his hands traveled softly down Eddie’s arm, smile innocent and full of life.

Eddie closed his eyes, pressing their noses together. Waylon giggled at the gesture, and soon enough Eddie felt hands caressing his face, chin lifting for Waylon to press a kiss against his cheek.

Eddie was wedged firmly between Waylon’s legs, hips flush. There was an animalistic need coursing through his veins, but he knew he had to stay calm. And, like usual, he failed miserably.

Waylon wrapped his arm around Eddie’s neck, breath hot on his skin as he asked, "So, what did you want to tell me?"

At that the blonde began kissing his neck, not necessarily to tempt him, but calm him down. Eddie swallowed heavily. They _really_ needed to just sit and talk, but the selfish part of his mind screamed at him not to ruin the moment.

In the end, Eddie sided with letting instinct take control, allowing both Waylon and himself to do as they wished. Eddie moved his hips slow, savoring whine that escaped from the younger man’s lips.

So he replied. “Nothing, nothing. I just wanted you to update me.”

Waylon grinned, "Things are going pretty... well," he said, moving his hips perfectly with Eddie’s.

_‘Control yourself, Eddie.’_ He couldn’t just let their relationship be based solely around sex. Eddie closed his eyes, resting his head against Waylon’s shoulder as he thought. Waylon's body was warm, and soft,

He’d tried coming up with different ways to break the news to Waylon the night before. He had been determined to just stop it once and for all, despite the pain and sadness that would indefinitely follow.

He thought it would be relatively easy to tell him, but having Waylon beneath him so calm and carefree, had made things incredibly difficult. But he _had to do it._

“I want us to go on a date,” Waylon blurted suddenly, before Eddie could do anything else.

Eddie's eyes widened as soon as he realized what Waylon meant, noting the shy bite of his lower lip. Had… had he heard that correctly?

“...A date?”

“Yeah,” Waylon mumbled breathlessly. “We’ve never had a real one-- the closest we got was the church fair. I hope it doesn’t sound weird, but I’ve always wanted to go on a date with someone who likes me as much as you, and I just… really like you, a _lot.”_

Eddie piqued a brow in interest; did Waylon not truly _know_ what was behind their relationship? Did Miles ever talk to him?

The blonde sighed, placing a kiss to Eddie’s lips before continuing, “I know Miles came here. He told me everything. And I denied what he asked, but he was too stubborn to believe me. God, I both love and hate his determination.

“I know that this can’t last much longer, but... it’s why I want to enjoy it before I have to wake up. Before… before it all ends.” he said sadly, turning away.

So Miles _did_ talk to him. Once again Eddie realized just how little he knew about Waylon; how much he had yet to learn. Maybe, just maybe, a date would be able to help him out. Maybe he could learn more.

Eddie sighed, turning a small smile to Waylon. "Where would you like to go?"


	10. Riddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is now officially caught up. It won't update in-time with the original-- It'll be updated about a week or two after the new chapters of the original comes out. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> **thelovearesick:** Re-reading my story in another language makes me realize that all my insecurities are only in my mind. It's so funny to see this story from another perspective! I am grateful to Peachy for making me feel more confident about this and all the people reading this fanfic. I LOVE YOU ALL.

Time seemed truly _eternal_ at night.

He’d checked his wristwatch a considerable amount of times already. It was as if the hands of the clock were stuck; but of course, that would be ridiculous.

His gaze alternated between looking at the clock and watching the street. A few people gave him funny looks as they walked by, but their judgemental stares didn’t last more than a couple of seconds until they were already on their way.

He’d always known he had a bit of an intimidating look to his face and stature. Now was a time he prided himself of it.

That afternoon, Eddie had taken longer than usual to decide what kind of attire he should wear for his date with Waylon. All he had was strictly formal wear; dress shirts, slacks and ties. He cursed himself and his inability to get away from it all, even for just one night.

So he went with simplicity, pulling on a white button-down shirt and black slacks, making an extra effort to try and blend in as much as he could. Of course, once again, Eddie failed in the ‘causal’ department.

Just before leaving, Eddie realized that he wasn’t himself without wearing one of his old bow ties. What the hell was he thinking?

He almost wanted to slap himself in the face, rushing to change into something less casual. Still, a white shirt was important for him to wear on special occasions.

Of course, Eddie didn’t have many special occasions to dress up for. Most of the time he simply preferred to wear the clothes related to his profession before anything else; it meant he didn’t have to spend much time thinking about what to put on. It was banal, but it was also one of the reasons he liked wearing his cassock.

He had agreed with Waylon to go somewhere far. They thought about the possibilities, such as going to a restaurant, the movies, or walking around the park. Waylon had jokingly suggested going dancing at some nightclub, earning a completely bewildered look from Eddie.

Eddie had never had an experience in a place like that in the past, and it was quite difficult to imagine himself in any form of club. He would probably end up surrounded by people Waylon's age, anyway. Eddie definitely didn’t fit the vision, but Waylon's laughter soon after was enough to make him understand that he’d been joking.

After many different suggestions, both had agreed that the cinema was the best option for them. It was a quiet and solitary place... to some extent. And it was less likely that someone would recognize them inside of a dark room.

Eddie was always paranoid, so the thought of someone in the community seeing them was constantly recurring.

He was starting to wonder if he looked weird standing there, like some kind of stalker. Or maybe people just thought it was a little depressing to find an adult man outside a movie theater, alone.

He really needed to calm down. He was close to the movie promotions; maybe they weren’t looking in his _exact_ direction.

The whole date had taken him by surprise. Was it a farewell? Eddie still didn’t know Waylon’s intentions. His behavior was becoming more and more mysterious as of late... Then again, adolescents were always unpredictable, and impulsive.

The afternoon Waylon had kissed him was a perfect example of that same impulsivity. No matter how rational a teenager may be, their natural impulse to want to do things in-the-moment would always prevail.

It was a few minutes later when Eddie felt someone gently touching his shoulder from behind. Turning, he met Waylon's watchful eye, quickly returning the gesture. He was unable to hold back laughter when Waylon panicked, eyes widening.

Ever since he'd met him, Eddie couldn’t help but think that Waylon was _too_ adorable all the time, and under any circumstances. As he scanned the teen up and down, he noted his simplistic outfit; jeans, a dark blue t-shirt, and a light sweater. Eddie leaned in when he caught a small whiff of the blonde’s usual subtle cologne, too.

The scent was... soft, in comparison to what Eddie usually wore himself. At this point, it was almost like a distinct smell. He knew that if he ever came in contact with it in the future, he wouldn’t be able to think of anything other than Waylon.

The blonde interlocked his hand with Eddie's, pulling at his arm a little as he rose to the tips of his feet, planting a light kiss to the corner of his lips.

Eddie froze. His gaze shot out to the rest of the people passing by; it didn’t seem like anyone was paying attention, but he could never be too sure. It was 8 o'clock at night, and the cinema they had chosen was on the outskirts of the city. Most of the people walking around were young.

“Hey, Eddie.” Waylon grinned, plopping back onto his feet.

“Hi,” He answered almost on-par.

The soft, timid smile that formed over Waylon's lips made him feel like they were a normal couple for a second, able to take their liberties and leave when and wherever they wanted. Almost, anyway.

Faint images flashed in his mind where he took Waylon to restaurants, fairs, small weekends trips, watching as Waylon transformed from a curious teenager into a wonderful adult. He could perfectly feel what it was like to wake with the blonde in his arms, entwining their fingers together early in the morning.

The persistent knowledge that Waylon Park had come into his life at the wrong time never dissipated. Maybe they had a chance together at another time in life, or different circumstances where they could forget the past and be free with one another.

Another doubt was whether Waylon would see him the same way as he was looking at him now, body leaning against his chest. Was it curiosity that attracted him, or maybe a whim? Eddie couldn’t stop wondering.

Just thinking about the possibility of Waylon wanting him for nothing more than simple curiosity was unbearable. Almost as unbearable as the idea of having to give up what they had; the relationship that they were creating.

Eddie cleared his throat. "Have you decided which movie to watch tonight, darling?"

_Darling._ Eddie rarely if ever used the word, but now, it flowed from his lips so naturally. It was the kind of word he couldn’t drop easily. It was unusual for him to use it so lightly, but when there was a person he really wanted, it was difficult to get rid of it in conversation.

His gaze turned back to Waylon, expecting some sort of disgusted reaction from using the nickname, but Waylon didn’t even flinch. His smile downplayed all of Eddie’s current insecurities.

Waylon shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it. I thought you would be the one to decide what movie we’d see.”

“You know I'm not very knowledgeable about these types of things…”

“Maybe if we look at the promo posters, we can find something striking enough to watch,” Waylon grinned, beginning his march towards the front entrance of the theater.

It sounded reasonable enough, but Waylon's hand in his distracted him as they made their way inside. Eddie’s inner thoughts were debating over letting go and not letting go go of Waylon’s hand as they moved forward.

It was surprising how natural Waylon could act in times like these. Eddie watched them pass a glass case containing a fire extinguisher, still thinking as hard as ever. Really, they truly did look like a normal couple on date night. The only thing that stood out was their distinct difference in age, but it didn’t seem to grab the attention of anyone else around.

As Waylon scanned over the different posters, Eddie realized that he really wasn’t interested in what they were going to see, no matter the movie. Waylon was a much more interesting subject, focused on the dramatic images on display.

Eddie's eyes flickered to the small smile that had formed over the blonde’s lips as he gripped his hand tighter, positioning himself close to Eddie’s arm. Waylon leaned in close, a fantastic gleam in his gaze as he pondered their options.

Eddie was afraid he would never feel so good about anybody else. Waylon made him feel so… _alive._ The overwhelmed look on his face seemed to catch Waylon’s attention, surprised to find the blonde staring at him expectantly.

Eddie was afraid to look around and meet the stares of everyone else in the building. He had an irrational fear that when he stopped holding Waylon's hand, the blonde would disappear from sight, and he would never be able to find him again. 

Waylon frowned. “...So?”

“What’s wrong, darling?” Eddie replied, snapping out of his trance.

Waylon sighed, rolling his eyes. “You weren’t listening to anything I just told you, were you?”

Eddie blinked in response, earning a small laugh from Waylon. The smaller man adjusted his grip over Eddie, moving his thumb in a slow circle over the back of his hand.

Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about how naturally they fit together, enjoying themselves like normal people do. The idea overwhelmed him that much more, and Waylon picked up on it.

“Do you feel uncomfortable being here? We can leave if you don’t--”

“No, no.” Eddie shook his head, dismissing Waylon with a wave of his hand. “It's not that, darling. I’m just thinking too hard. ...Have you decided what movie we we’re going to see? I really _am_ horrible at choosing…”

At that, Waylon laughed. “Come on Eddie, you don’t need to be an expert to go to the movies. You've already made several decisions lately, this isn’t much harder.”

“Uh… decisions?”

Waylon shrugged. “You agreed to go out with me today.”

Eddie gave a nervous laugh at that, nodding. His hand adjusted the same way Waylon had while the blonde told him about a strange police-themed thriller he’d seen on one of the billboards.

Eddie really didn’t care what movie they saw. He was sure that all of his attention would be focused on Waylon for the rest of the night, anyway.

When they finished buying their tickets, they immediately got in the line for popcorn and candy. Waylon stood in front of Eddie while the older man looked in his wallet; he would buy everything and anything Waylon desired, if that was what he wanted.

Eddie didn’t feel like eating anything in particular. Part of it was because of the growing flare of pain in his stomach. He had never felt so nervous before in the past; not even when he had accepted the responsibility of sponsoring his first mass, before he had become an official member of the church he was in currently.

Waylon gently guided Eddie's hand up to his waist, wrapping his arms around his torso. Eddie paused, unsure of what Waylon was doing, or what _he_ should be doing. Was this something people did on dates? He felt perplexed, gripping onto Waylon tightly in return, bodies molded at an awkward angle.

“Heh. Looks like somebody’s happy to see me.”

“Is it that obvious?” said Eddie, panicking. “I'm so sorry, darling…”

Waylon cackled against his chest. “Eddie, you really have to relax. There's nothing wrong with hugging someone.”

Eddie breathed through his nose, trying his best to release the tension in his shoulders. “I know, I know. It's just-- I'm afraid someone might see us. Someone we might know…”

“Eddie, seriously,” Waylon sighed, pulling away just enough to give him a firm look. “If you don’t feel comfortable with this, we can leave and we'll see each other another day inside the church, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

Eddie contemplated the statement. They’d been having risky behavior inside of the church for quite some time now, the chances of a community seeing them and discovering their secret seeming much greater inside than outside.

Going off the premises on an actual date seemed much safer the longer he thought about it. His behavior seemed childish now, especially since no one looked at them for more than a few seconds before growing bored and moving onto the next person.

Eddie let out a long sigh, trying to dispel all of his doubts from before. He let his hand settle firmly against Waylon’s hip, resting his chin on his shoulder. “I’m quite alright. Ask for whatever you want, Waylon. Tonight I'm here just to pamper you.”

Waylon gave a slight laugh as he walked up to the cash register, ordering a single, big popcorn for the both of them. He payed with the money Eddie gave him, through his insistence; he couldn’t help but want to take at _least_ some responsibility in the moment.

As ridiculous and outdated as it seemed, Eddie had been sincere. He truly wanted to spoil Waylon over the course of the night. If given the chance, he would’ve carried Waylon to the movie theater personally and without any hesitation.

As they moved into the actual theater, both of them settled at the end of the row near the back. The place was fairly comfortable, and mostly empty except for another couple that’d situated themselves at the other end of the room.

Waylon made a comment about people who weren’t there to watch the movie tended to stick to the back of the room. Eddie gave a nervous cough at that.

Waylon laughed, shaking his head as he placed his soda in the cup holder on the empty armrest, leaving space between himself and Eddie. The popcorn rested in his lap easily as he slowly settled down into his seat. Eddie offered to hold the bucket, but Waylon refused, stating he wanted the closest action to the popcorn as he could get.

Eddie's eyes fixed on the screen only when the lights dimmed around them. They had entered the room only a few minutes before the movie was supposed to start; the previews should be playing at any moment.

He really wasn’t interested in watching the boring season’s titles. Eddie’s hands rested in his lap, remaining almost motionless for a few seconds, uncertain of what he should be doing.

Waylon turned, glancing Eddie over before taking his hand and tugging it forward, pulling his arm around his shoulders. Eddie automatically leaned closer to his side, watching as Waylon did the same, letting his head slump over Eddie’s broad shoulder.

Eddie didn’t lose a single second of the gesture. It was such a cliché thing to do as a couple at the movies. The only way he knew how to respond was to hold Waylon's shoulder, letting his chin rest over blonde hair as he enjoyed the sweet scent of the cologne he’d smelled on him earlier.

Finally, the actual film started. Just as Eddie guessed, everything about the opening scene reflected a rather dark and mysterious vibe, characteristic of an action thriller.

Eddie knew he wasn't going to pay attention to anything that may or may not happen in the film. The hand that held Waylon's shoulder began to move gently over him, rubbing up and down the blonde’s arm.

Waylon seemed focused on watching the movie and eating popcorn, but his body began to slacken around Eddie more and more. Slowly Eddie noticed one of Waylon’s hands approach his thigh, giving it a light squeeze over the fabric of his leg.

“Darling…”

"You know what they say about these types of seats," said Waylon, chuckling.

Even the slightest touch from Waylon could light a fire within him. The hand over Waylon’s shoulder tightened, his posture stiffening. Waylon suddenly ceased all movements, looking up sorrowfully into the older man’s eyes. “I’m sorry…”

Eddie shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for. Remember, I told you I was here to pamper you.”

Waylon fell back into his seat. “Sometimes you're too complacent.”

Waylon returned to focusing on the film, as did Eddie, although he couldn’t keep his attention on the screen for very long despite trying to make an effort to understand the film. The more he watched, the more absurd it became.

About half an hour had passed before Eddie finally gave a slight yawn. He didn’t know what the length of the thriller was in exact time, but he was certain it would carry on for an eternity since the opening hadn’t even grabbed his attention.

Waylon's eyes dropped down to the half empty bucket of popcorn in his lap. Eddie hadn’t taken any; they weren’t much to his liking, anyway.

Somehow, the movie ended some time later. Eddie stretched, cracking his neck. "I never thought a thriller could bore me that much."

“I know,” Waylon sighed, shaking his head. “It even gave away the ending. I'm sorry I picked something so boring, Eddie. It looked good in the promos…”

“You don’t need to apologize, Waylon.” said Eddie. “The movie is completely irrelevant to me. I have something better I could be focusing on tonight.”

Waylon’s brow piqued in interest, “And what might that be...?” He asked, eyes flickering.

Eddie enjoyed the attentive look in Waylon’s voice. Waylon was the center of his attention, and right now, it seemed Waylon was thinking the same exact thing.

There was a certain sense of pride in feeling important to Waylon's life. Eddie moved himself closer until their faces were only inches apart, "I think you know the answer to that, Waylon.” He replied huskily, eyelids lowering.

With that, their lips clashed together. The popcorn ended up falling out of the seat, and Eddie was thankful for picking the seats in the back of the room that Waylon had described so erotically. _Now_ he understood why it was the favored spot for couples attending late night showings.

Waylon's hand shot forward, latching onto Eddie’s shirt and pulling him forward until he was practically leaning over Waylon’s body. The blonde’s hands skimmed over his chest down his torso, exploring, wandering.

He needed to have Waylon beneath him, and he needed it _now._ Eddie almost felt ashamed as he felt himself stiffen, drowning himself in the feel of Waylon’s body.

He had to get Waylon outside. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle how much Waylon was tempting him for very long, the heat between them to great to put off or ignore. It wouldn’t come as a surprise if Waylon wasn’t aware of how much he was exciting him. At least, not yet.

"Let's go to a hotel, Eddie. You were right about concentrating on more important things…” Waylon breathed, palming over the fabric covering Eddie’s half-hard member.

Eddie almost wanted to laugh, especially when he caught the look in Waylon’s eyes that told him he was just about ready to plop down into his lap and dry-hump him. But of course, he more than agreed with Waylon’s last comment.

He stood, taking Waylon’s hand in his own before guiding him to the other end of the aisle, walking briskly out of the theater and out into the night. They found his car rather quickly, climbing inside and driving away with incredible speed.

Eddie's eyes flickered to watch Waylon every now and then during the car ride. He couldn’t stop the sudden influx of feelings at watching the younger man’s face as it was illuminated by passing streetlights.

They were a couple of idiots, but Waylon’s carefree attitude was contagious.

* * *

Eddie barely had any time to react.

What started as a simple comment ended up taking them both to a small roadside motel after hurrying out of the movie theater. Eddie tried to look for somewhere pleasant. Waylon didn’t deserve to be in a dirty, unsafe room, so he opted to take proper precautions to keep him safe.

Arriving at the reception desk, little was said before they had the key within their grasp and suddenly Eddie and Waylon were standing just outside the room. Eddie quickly inserted the key, gesturing Waylon inside before following him in and kicking the door shut.

Eddie immediately had his hands over Waylon, tugging the sweater over his shoulders before caressing his hands down his abdomen. He quickly lifted Waylon into his arms, placing him down onto the bed and attacking his neck with heated kisses.

Waylon immediately moaned, hands carding through jet black hair. He let out a small whimper of protest once Eddie moved away, flipping Waylon onto all fours. He was left dumbfounded for that split second until he heard the sound of a zipper being undone.

“I can help you, if you want.”

“No need, darling.”

Waylon was about to retort until he heard the sound of Eddie’s pants as they were shucked aside, the clank of his shoes quick to follow.

Waylon laid on his chest somewhat-impatiently, turning his head gently to find Eddie's gaze roaming over his body. He blushed, turning back around to stare into the pillow.

“You’re so beautiful, darling,” Eddie moaned softly, moving his hands to peel Waylon’s shirt up and over his head, tossing it towards his discarded sweater. He graced his hands over the exposed skin of Waylon’s back, letting out another soft sigh.

Waylon closed his eyes as he felt a chill run down his spine at the touch, unable to avoid raising his hips until he felt himself brush up against Eddie’s leg.

Eddie was quick to understand what Waylon wanted, beginning to make soft, circular motions over his backside. He grinned as the blonde let out a soft keening noise, pressing down into the sheets beneath him.

Waylon had never felt so at Eddie’s mercy before as much as he did now. He even tried to reach over and touch Eddie, but one hands suddenly appeared out of nowhere, pinning him down. Eddie’s weight could almost be considered a prison with the position they were in.

“Be still, Waylon. I told you that I’d do everything in my power to please you, no matter what your desires may be…”

Waylon shifted uncomfortably under his hold, managing to crane his neck far enough so that he could see the triumphant grin over the older man’s face. "I didn’t expect you to take it so seriously, Eddie.”

Eddie only grinned wider. “When I make an oath, I always take it _very_ seriously…”

With that Eddie grabbed hold of the waist of Waylon’s pants, yanking his jeans and boxers off in one clean swoop. He had to sit up in order to remove his own boxer briefs, reaching for the small bottle of lubricant he’d been keeping in his pocket.

At the time he had felt like a pervert, carrying the bottle through a public building. But now he realized that his decision had been the right one, releasing Waylon in favor of popping the cap and coating his digits in preparation.

At the sound of the cap Waylon sighed, rubbing his cheek into the pillow beneath him. He couldn’t recall feeling so vulnerable before. He let out a small yelp of surprise as Eddie's fingers slid inside of him without warning, the man’s other hand moving to his waist to raise his hips higher.

Waylon’s moans rose in octave once he felt Eddie’s fingers stretching him to the breaking point, curling around just the right spot to earn a loud moan and shudder from him. He felt a sweat gathering around his hairline, breath ragged.

Eddie had learned well enough by now where to touch Waylon in order to get the reactions he desired. His thrusting only intensified once Waylon moved his hips in time with Eddie’s fingers, burying them even deeper.

Waylon felt lightheaded and dizzy as Eddie removed his fingers. He glanced over his shoulder, giving Eddie a look similar to that of a kicked puppy.

“What's wrong, darling? You look a little anxious tonight,” said Eddie, pressing back into Waylon almost immediately. Waylon arched at the sensation, wanting so desperately to touch his fully-hardened cock.

Eddie's eyes didn’t miss a single one of Waylon’s movements. He had never felt so drawn-in and excited about any other person, finding every single shift of Waylon’s hips and gasp from his lips to be extremely erotic. He was unable to keep himself from leaving an intense bite over the blonde’s shoulder.

Waylon gasped and shuddered, his body unable to tell the difference between pain and pleasure anymore as his prostate was overworked by the thick fingers inside of him. It could be considered close to torture, but there was little Waylon could do to stop the flood of emotions coursing through them both.

He was enjoying it, but he wanted more.

“E-Eddie-- Please...”

“I need you to tell me clearly, darling.”

“Are you going to make me beg…?”

"You just have to say it.”

“A-all right! I want you to… I want you inside of me.”

Eddie chuckled deeply. “But I'm already inside of you, darling. What more could you want…?”

Waylon wanted to laugh and cry at the ridiculousness of it all, but he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up for much longer with Eddie teasing him the way he was. He narrowed in on Eddie’s cocky smile, glaring as the man laughed at his despair.

Sometimes, Waylon hated how Eddie could be attractive enough to get away with a dashing smile like that. If Waylon could have foreseen himself falling under the spell of a priest like Eddie, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so prejudiced over Catholicism and faith-related stuff.

...The thought seemed a little blasphemous the more he thought it over.

But Waylon was determined. He bit his lower lip, letting out a long, stuttering sigh. “I want you to put your dick inside me, Eddie. _That’s_ what I want.”

Waylon's voice seemed strained as he finally uttered the statement through clenched teeth. Eddie drew his fingers out almost instantly, causing Waylon to flop down helplessly against the bedsheets.

The older man didn’t miss a beat, coating his erection with the remaining lubricant. He wanted to make sure Waylon felt good way before his own pleasure.

“You don’t have to be so explicit, darling. What vulgar language…” He mumbled, lining himself up with Waylon’s hole.

Waylon wanted to snap back with a witty reply, but wasn’t given the time before Eddie filled him up completely, moving until the tip of his member nudged his prostate. A loud groan broke free from Waylon’s lips, unable to find it in himself to support his own weight anymore.

Eddie held his hips firmly, trying to align Waylon's body to angle himself even deeper, starting with evenly-timed thrusts.

One of Eddie’s hands ventured to grasp Waylon’s own neglected member, beginning to work the hand up and down the shaft as he continued to pump inside of him. Eddie curled over Waylon’s back, letting out a deep, guttural moan as he started harder, faster.

They had never tried this position before, but Eddie already felt that he could go much deeper by having Waylon in all fours all the while making sure he was still comfortable. He was almost worried he was hurting the younger man.

On the contrary, Waylon seemed to be enjoying it just as much as Eddie was. His head tilted back as he let out loud moan of pleasure, causing Eddie’s hands to tighten against his hips.

Waylon's lips were parted and his eyes half-lidded, and despite how difficult it was to see him, Eddie didn’t want to lose a single expressions or sound from him. Eddie hunched further over Waylon, burying his nose in the crook of his neck and breathing him in even further.

They were both coated with a thin sheen of sweat by now, the friction and heat between them suddenly becoming all too much. Eddie could feel Waylon's member throbbing at his touch, and he could tell he was close.

Eddie knew that just a few more thrusts would do it for himself as well, maintaining the same deep angle and suddenly, he felt Waylon release. The way he clenched around Eddie’s member had him groaning, spilling inside of Waylon moments later.

Every time they were just like this, Eddie was always surprised by the sounds he could elicit from Waylon. It was like a drug; the more they did it, the more desperate he became for it. The euphoria of post-coital haze always clouded his judgement, unable to think of anything other than Waylon.

"You have no idea how much I need you, Waylon.” Eddie mumbled, voice barely a whisper. “You have no idea how much love you…”

Eddie settled over Waylon’s body, careful not to crush the younger man with his weight. After a couple of seconds of silence, Eddie felt a pang of regret at his previous words, unable keep himself from turning his head away to avoid Waylon’s gaze.

_‘Did I just tell him I was in love with him?’_

Eddie had always avoided using the word ‘love’ in reference to Waylon during all of their earlier encounters. It was a bit intense for the kind of situation they were both stuck in... and the fact that Waylon still hadn’t answered was a bad sign.

Why couldn’t he have just kept quiet?!

He almost wanted to hit the nearest wall, but Waylon's arms suddenly surrounded him, preventing the action and he was forced to face him. Waylon laid on his side, staring up at Eddie with wide brown eyes.

Eddie chose to remain silent, finally glancing down to meet Waylon’s eyes. He looked tired, almost on the verge of sleep in his arms. Finally Eddie caved, placing Waylon's head gently on his shoulder, allowing a few moments of rest before he had to return Waylon home.

Eddie kept his eyes open, staring at an indefinite spot of the hotel ceiling. He had been in dangerous territory ever since he had caught a glimpse of Waylon that one fateful day. There was no doubt in his mind that it would be extremely difficult for him to get out of their current situation without repercussions.

The taste of farewell continued to seep into his mind, and he was unable to contain the wave of sadness beginning to spread throughout his chest at the thought.

* * *

The way back home was completely silent. It wasn’t really an awkward silence, since they’d already said everything they’d wanted to physically minutes before. On top of that, Eddie's previous statement still resonated strongly between them.

Eddie was in love with him. Waylon couldn’t decide whether the feelings he had for the older man were as deep as the words that had been spoken between them. As Waylon turned his gaze towards him, he could tell by Eddie’s posture that he was uncomfortable.

Maybe the statement had been something like a timebomb between them. How long could they keep up the charade? The days they had left grew less and less the longer they dragged it on.

Waylon felt drowsy. There was an almost permanent feeling of heaviness left over after having sex, but it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. Somehow, it felt almost felt relaxing. His hips ached blissfully, thinking back to Eddie’s hands over him.

He had learned rather quickly that Eddie liked to watch him while making love to him. All of the ways he bent him over to give him what he wanted. It felt like a rather daring thought, but the very act being that intimate with a priest couldn’t be much worse than thinking about all of the types of things they’d done in the past.

Sometimes Waylon had to wonder how they’d even reached this point. Waylon had begun to see Eddie almost as a figure of authority, but his admiration and curiosity had increased as their meetings became even more recurring. That Eddie was a very handsome man, and it certainly didn’t help his infatuation with him.

At first, Waylon had thought that Eddie only felt a carnal desire for him. He’d never expected his feelings to be reciprocated beyond physicality, but Eddie had shown Waylon that he cared for him more than he once thought.

But not enough to be a voice of reason. Not enough to stop the chain of events between them that had led to the strange relationship they were involved with currently.

Miles had told him that Eddie was only being selfish, and that he was the one who had to be responsible. Waylon hadn’t taken the statement very seriously, but with the passing days and reflections on the matter, he knew that there was some truth to it.

The again, blaming Eddie for everything that happened didn’t feel right. Waylon had been the one to take the first step, and he didn’t want to be the one to end it, either. He was just as selfish as Eddie really, preferring to silence the voice of his conscience than face reality.

All of the thoughts were too overwhelming to handle. Waylon was tired of it.

If these were the same as Eddie's thoughts, then he understood why the man was constantly angered by everyone else around him. Miles had told him that Eddie looked like a very temperamental man, and that he didn’t understand what he saw in him. 

Waylon had smiled, imagining the look that Eddie must’ve given him when Miles walked into the church. It was obvious that his presence wouldn’t be in the least bit welcome.

Eddie stopped the car a few houses down from Waylon’s. Even though it was extremely late at night, Eddie's paranoia wouldn’t cease, hands clenched over the steering wheel. Waylon stared at the man’s uneasiness even as he unbuckled seat belt, leaning over his seat towards him.

Eddie finally dared to look Waylon in the eye as the blonde placed a hand on his cheek, pulling him into a firm kiss. Despite the previous paranoia plaguing Eddie’s mind, both moved in time to deepen the kiss. Soon enough Eddie was guiding the kiss, pulling Waylon closer towards him.

Waylon melted into the kiss, fists clenched tightly over Eddie's white shirt. He felt his breathing quicken and his head began to throb, burning on his lips, his face, and other more sensitive parts of his body.

Could they never stop? Waylon felt his feelings flourish, the sensations of being over one another intensifying. Eddie ran a hand over Waylon’s hip, playing with the hem of his shirt.

Both of them needed to stop. It was difficult, but necessary. It was so clear now, every sign, every feeling and every thought he'd had from the first moment they’d met, too obvious to ignore. Parting was almost a crime.

He had caught his attention from the very beginning, at that one mass. Waylon had felt guilty for staring at the icy gaze of the priest a moment too long, holding his mother's hand in comfort. There had definitely been a great sense of attraction back then, but it’d been jumbled with the priority of taking care of his mother.

What had once been a simple admiration had turned into something so much more.

There wasn't a single time where he thought Eddie was taking advantage of him. Each had been just as curious as the other. Waylon was overwhelmed with the knowledge that he was going to have to leave, and he so desperately wanted to shut that logical part of his brain off. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it.

Waylon pulled back, lips ghosting over Eddie’s as he mumbled, “I’m in love with you too…”

Now, it felt like such a relief to be able to give a name to that feeling. His eyes were lowered, unable to do more than enjoy the feel of Eddie’s breath as it puffed against his lips.

Slowly, a smile formed over the Eddie’s lips. He was in just as deep as Waylon was.

Eddie began to kiss all over Waylon's face, slowly and delicately. Waylon almost felt like crying out in relief, a small laugh escaping his lips. It was already cruel enough that he met someone like Eddie at a time like now; why did it have to come to this?

He wondered what things could’ve been like if they’d been different. If they’d met at a different time. Would it had been possible?

Waylon sat further back, a small sigh escaping his lips as he caught Eddie’s eye. "Do… do you think things could have worked out if things were different, Eddie?”

The older man seemed to ponder Waylon’s question over, lips pressed together in a fine line. Waylon almost wanted to laugh again, but the soft look Eddie gave him had him keep his mouth shut. Waylon’s eyes shimmered in admiration; he really did love this man.

After another couple of seconds, Eddie gave a slight nod. “Of course it would have worked. I don’t think anyone will ever be able to make me feel the same as when you’re with me…”

Waylon closed his eyes as Eddie’s lips graced his once more; a silent goodbye.

As they parted, Waylon uttered a quick, "Goodnight," before stepping out of the car, starting up the road home. He heard Eddie’s car start behind him, slowly growing quieter as he drove away.

Waylon pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, glancing at the time. 1:09 AM. He'd thought it was way later, considering how much had happened and everything that they’d done between the movie theater and home.

Waylon tried to clear his mind as he entered his house, glancing up only when he realized the lights were still on. His mother should’ve been asleep hours ago-- was she still awake…?

The sound of drawers opening in the kitchen finally caught Waylon’s attention. He moved quickly into the lighted room to find his mother standing at the sink, facing the counter.

Looking down at the floor, Waylon was alarmed to find a few drops of blood beside her. As he got closer, he noticed broken glass embedded in the palms of her hands, bathrobe stained reddish-brown over the sleeves. How long had she been injured for?

Panic took over all of Waylon's emotions, especially when he started into the empty look of his mother as she continued to stare at the counter.

Slowly, she turned to him. “...Waylon... are you…?”

"Mom, what have you done…?” Waylon whispered, immediately reaching for one of the kitchen towels in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. They would need to get the glass out; it was fairly deep in her skin.

Waylon didn’t know what to do. It seemed reality didn’t seem to want to stop crashing down on him that night.


End file.
